#that last line was cringey so ignore that lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fairydares · 2 years ago

Text

fuck it, new fic. let's do this.

(there's a 'keep reading' line so don't worry, this isn't too long.)

Title: Chasing Tails (AO3 Link) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Rating: E (Explicit) because I'm almost positive there will be eventual smut. I'll be clearer about this as I actually decide what I'm going to write lol. Overarching Warning for Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Categories: 2nd gen fic; adventure, humor, romance, fluff, and angst in approximately that order. i guess.

Pairings: Nalu, Gruvia, Gajevy, Jerza, Miraxus+Fried (don't know what that ship's called sorry), Chendy, Sting/Yukino, Baccana-- next gen has pairings, too, but I don't want to reveal those yet.

Tags/TW's: The first chapter contains UFC/MMA-esque violence as well as some implied street violence. There may be more TW's I need to add later, but I honestly haven't written the whole story or decided everything, so that's all I can give you for now. I'll do my best to tag appropriately as I go.

Summary: It’s been almost 12 years since 17-year-old Layla O'Neil was found living alone on the streets and put in foster care, and she likes to think she’s done a pretty good job of forgetting the past. She doesn’t remember her birth family, the name “Nashi [*1] Dragneel,” or where she heard the absurd stories she told the police who found her. Stories about Wizard Guilds, flying cats, and–most cringey of all–her self-proclaimed status as a “Fire Dragon Slayer.”

But the past becomes pretty impossible to ignore when it confronts her in the form of some middle-aged, pink-haired stalker who won’t stop calling her the ridiculous name she’d nearly forgotten, and trying to convince her to come back to “Fairy Tale.”

Oh, and claiming to be her dad.

Like Layla doesn’t have enough problems! The last thing she needs is some delusional freak following around. Especially one who’s starting to make her want to take his hand…

Yep, this is a Second Gen (and therefore post-canon) fic. The idea took root and just would not let go. I’ll warn you ahead of time that the premise is somewhat dark. That said, I’m the kind of writer who likes (and tries to write) stories with sad beginnings, hopeful middles, and triumphant ends. I don't want to give too much away, but you shouldn't expect major character deaths or anything like that, though their may be some forms of lightly implied abuse.

Feel free to reblog, make your own additions with commentary, whatever. I'm quite lax with stuff like that. Hope this was comprehensive enough, and that you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Dragon-Slaying Aliens

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“That’s correct…a world that exists independently from the one we know. And, unfortunately, a world that’s begun losing its Magic…unlike here, in Edolas, Magic is a finite resource. Without limits on its use, it will one day disappear forever.” -from Episode 78, “Edolas”, (English dub, ~00:09), Carla’s line [*1]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------To say this mission had gone sideways was a big-ass understatement, and even Natsu had to admit it.

It had started well enough. A relatively small mission. Not even S-Class! Puny wannabe Dark Guilds like the one Shirotsume needed dealt with–what was it called? Bony Jewel or something? Anyways, they were a dime a dozen, these days. Hell, Natsu was pretty sure he and Happy took out, like, a billion of them in the past seven years by pure accident. So how the hell was he supposed to know that this time, he’d get blasted to another world–one even Team Natsu hadn’t wound up in?

And he was positive they’d never been here. He may have had a bad memory (something he’d begrudgingly been forced to actively acknowledge as he grew into a man) but he was sure he’d have remembered somewhere that made him feel this bad. It wasn’t just that he couldn’t use his Magic. If it had just been that, this might have been fun. Hell, a lot of the worlds Team Natsu had visited–even Edolas–had been fun.

This one sucked.

If he hadn’t known better, he’d have thought he’d been transported to the future–one where FACE had been activated and all the Magic had been dissipated. Because it had felt, truly, like all the Magic was being sucked out of him. When he’d woken up on the forest floor, he’d felt as if he was dying. His lungs had burned with each breath (and not in the good way). His limbs had felt like lead when he tried to rise.

He’d quickly realized that couldn’t be the case, though. Even if the Dragons hadn’t destroyed FACE, if all the Magic had been sucked from Earthland he’d have Magical Deficiency Syndrome. He’d either be down or in forced into his END form.

He’d wandered around the small forest he’d woken up in alone, trying to focus through the stink and noise he was only capable of perceiving through what felt like about a hundred layers of thick blanket, and calling for his best friend as long as he could. It hadn’t been long before he gave up and left; Happy had never shouted back (something he considered fortunate, at this point; hopefully Happy was back in Earthland) his stomach was trying to eat itself, it was dark–and, worst of all–he still couldn’t use his Magic. At all.

Actually, scratch that: the absolute worst part was when a glance at his (as usual) bare shoulder showed him that his guild mark had vanished. It was just gone. So was his scarf, and so was his Mini Communication Lacrima. Obviously, his guild mark and scarf were bigger deals personally, but the Mini Comm was a bigger loss in immediate, practical terms. After That Day, seven years ago, Laxus–now Fairy Tail’s Master–had started putting Navigation Enchantments on everyone’s Comms so that anyone who went missing could be traced. There was a 3D map of Earthland and Edolas visually tracking everyone’s movements in the Master’s Office. It could even find them in Edolas.

Now, Natsu’s was nowhere to be found. No one would be able to find him, wherever he was, and any hopes of contacting them were obviously dead in the water, too.

He was gonna have to find his own way back, somehow. He only prayed his scarf was somehow back in Earthland, and that Happy had grabbed it for him.

As he hobbled down the weird, too-neat walkway he’d found, he had to believe that whatever was preventing him from using his Magic was what kept him from sensing anything beyond the general–the stink, the sound, the pain, the hunger. Normally, with his better-than-normal resilience and enhanced strength, his pain would have mostly taken care of itself by now. Usually, making himself move helped. Now, it seemed to be making things worse.

After finding the pathway, he’d kept shouting for his little buddy a whole bunch of times, but all he’d gotten were several loud verbal confrontations and one physical one. He’d expected to beat the massive brute towering next to the smaller woman beside him–and he had. But it hadn’t been as easy as he’d expected. His movements had been slower than normal. His limbs had felt like lead. His strength had been lesser. Every time he tried to call up his Magic, a wave of dizziness and lethargy had overcome him. It was like he’d feel the rushing up inside of him only to sputter to coldness at the last second; he hadn’t seen so much as a spark since he’d woken up.

In the end, it was only experience and determination which had allowed him to level the much larger man, and hard-earned wisdom which had seen him running from the screeching woman and the gun-wielding, uniform-wearing soldiers her screeching had drawn. Yet the punch he’d taken to the nose had made it bleed and the kick to the thigh had made him limp.

It wasn’t just that his Dragon senses had vanished, making him woozy, making it difficult to stand and excruciating to move. His strength was gone as well. Not even sealstone would have weakened him this much.

He’d wandered, now, for what felt like several hours. The number of Magical Vehicles around were astounding–astounding, and nauseating; just looking at them made Natsu want to vomit. The one good part of having an empty stomach was that he had nothing to give up. He meandered in a stupor, through unbelievably thick crowds, dodging Magic Vehicles and their honking, and glaring down anyone who yelled at him for not understanding something, occasionally barking back to scare them off.

He’d never been so disoriented, and the worst part was that deep down, he knew that there was no one to blame but himself.

Lucy and Happy had asked him, point-blank, if the Quest he’d chosen had anything to do with his search for their long-lost daughter and kitten.

It had. Of course it had.

However, Natsu had denied it. Because if he hadn’t, he and Happy wouldn’t have been able to leave right then. Lucy would have forced him to bring someone else along; she was busy taking care of their son, Luke; the Perve-sicle was already out on his own mission/search for Juvia, and Erza was away, which meant he’d have had to ask someone outside Team Natsu.

No thanks, he’d decided, covering up the fine print on the mission request with his fingers before holding it up to Lucy’s nose.

Now, as he snarled at yet another person yelling at him for being in the way, Natsu was starting to consider the possibility that he just maybe should’ve been more upfront, and even that he should–perhaps–have waited for the stripper to get back before taking on Bony Jewel or whatever alone.

But how the hell was he supposed to have known it would end up like this?! It had been going fine–in fact, it had been going great! A couple opponents had offered a real challenge before their Master had shown up. Natsu had been laying down brick in that fight, too. Yet when the guy had been on his last legs, he’d whipped some creepy, sparkly rainbow skull from nowhere (now that he thought about it…that might have been what the Guild was named for!) and shot one last attack. One so big, Natsu had been unable to dodge–though, of course, he’d made to both block and finish the fight with an enormously powerful Fire Dragon Wing Attack.

Based on his current predicament–he had to assume it hadn’t worked. Even though the skull had shattered in the heat of his flames at the last second, the blast had still hit him. His one consolation was that he was pretty sure his little buddy had heeded his final warning to get back. So he was almost definitely still back in Earthland.

It had taken Natsu several pathetic attempts to stand. Getting here felt like a blur. Now, he had no idea what he was doing. What he should do. Their money had been in Happy’s knapsack, and without his precious nose, finding food was basically impossible anway.

Man…Lucy’s gonna kill me, he grumbled internally, grunting at another group who shouted at him for bumping into him.

Okay, yeah, maybe he should’ve been honest. Maybe he should’ve waited. But how could he do that when the lead was so good? When there was even the smallest chance he might finally find Nashi [*]?

At the thought, his footsteps halted temporarily. He ducked his head, bangs shadowing his eyes. He balled his fists at his sides. The thought of the missing daughter he’d never stopped searching for never got easier to bear.

It was the worst thing that could happen to a parent, to lose their child. Something he wouldn’t have wished on Fairy Tail’s most vicious, evil enemy. He and Lucy understood that too intimately. Still, he didn’t let himself get bogged down, not when it might hold him back, not when it might keep him from finding her. Seven years, she’d been gone. Her, Wendy–so many of their nakama and allies. Time had neither hindered nor halted his search for any of his missing comrades, but especially his little girl. She’d be twelve, now. He’d gotten better with birthdays and anniversaries when he married Lucy. He’d woken up and started crying on April 14th this year, the same as his wife.

Still, even on that day, he’d spoken of her. When he was with Luke, Lucy, and Happy, he talked about it. He talked about how he’d find her and Harley–Happy and Carla’s kitten–how they’d be a family again. He spoke of the future to give it power, just like Igneel had taught him. Just like he’d taught his own kids. Wherever Nashi was, he was sure she must be doing the same; speaking of how she’d find them again, the same as he strove to find her.

But he couldn’t continue his search (covert or not) until he got home. So getting home was definitely at the top of the to-do list. Right after eating.

He kept walking.

Wherever he’d wound up was seedy, dark, yet strewn with lights that made paths across his newly-sucky eyes when he looked at them directly. Gross and smelly, too. The people he’d just bumped into started shouting back at him, something about bumping into someone’s girlfriend, and he huffed irritably. Normally, he’d never back down from a challenge like this, but believe it or not, he was too lost, confused, hungry, and tired to deal with another fight–not when the injuries he’d sustained from the previous one were still hurting this much.

It was humiliating. He’d always been the type of person who refused to back down from a fight, no matter how outmatched he was. These days, a lot of fights were honestly pretty boring for him. Erza would always be scary, and Gray was admittedly pretty strong (if not badass enough to stand up to him, or so he would always insist). He could proudly admit to having achieved (at least) Gildarts-level strength without the clumsiness to make him dangerous.

Now, he was balking out of fights with people who weren’t even using Magic.

There was something viscerally terrifying about how much his injuries were troubling him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t limp without worsening whatever injury that asshole had doled out on his knee. His nose felt bigger than his head.

He stumbled on, brooding.

The guy whose girlfriend he’d bumped into got louder, closer. Obviously, the freak wasn’t gonna let it go. Cursing, he started hobbling more quickly, turning the next corner. To his relief and curiosity, bright lights, loud voices, and a huge crowd–littered with food stands he might be able to beg food from–appeared. He made his way into the thick of it, ignoring the shouts behind him, and ducked and wove between people. It took him several seconds to realize he was still trying to find food by his nose, which barely even freaking worked. Frustrated, he turned his attention to the source of the light, which seemed to focus down on whatever sat in the middle of the crowd.

Curiosity shoving past the numbness and hunger, Natsu pushed his way towards it.

“Ow!”

“Hey!”

“Watch it, freak!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Natsu grumbled. “Watch your damn selves!”

He still felt like shit, but the crowd was oddly invigorating. As he crashed through the thickest (front) lines of the crowd, more lights came on while the darkness behind him fell deeper. Natsu winced, blinking. It took him a few moments to register what he’d stumbled upon: a roundish sort of stage, elevated a few feet off the ground and bordered by some kind of chain-link cage thing. Two corners were open to be entered, but fended off by some big dudes in black suits, holding back the crowd.

“WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” boomed a voice that came from everywhere and nowhere at once, making Natsu flinch again and the crowd start chattering loudly.

Match? Natsu wondered despite his disorientation and exhaustion, thinking of the Grand Magic Games. He shoved aside every stranger who tried to take his place at the front of the audience, looking around with wide, curious eyes, shoving his gnawing stomach to the backburner.

��FIGHT FANS! ARE YOU REAAAADDDDYYYYY??!!! ”

Fight? Natsu thought, perking up, conveniently forgetting his injuries in a burst of excitement. Several people started chattering at the crack of the loud voice that was everywhere and nowhere, making Natsu look around even more fervently.

“BECAUSE THIS LONG-WAITED MATCH-UP IS… ABOUT…TO…BEGINNNN!!!”

The cheering got louder, the shoving got more aggressive, and Natsu got more aggressive right along with it. He’d be damned if he was going to miss a good fight. Besides. He needed to see what the Magic here was like. He was being smart. So ha! How about that, Lucy?!

“INTRODUCING: OUR FIRST FIGHTER!” the voice shouted while Natsu continued to elbow and shove, anticipation rising. Music rang out, a dude’s loud, snarly voice backed up by a bunch of deep bangs and booms which had Natsu trying to decide if what he was listening to was awesome or fucking awful–nope, definitely fucking awful. For the first time, he was glad he couldn’t hear properly since he got here.

A light flashed at one corner, drawing his eye. “UNLIKE HIS OPPONENT, THIS FIGHTER IS WELL-ESTABLISHED IN THE SEMI-UNDERGROUND OCTAGON! HAD HIS PERFORMANCES BEEN FORMALLY JUDGED WHILE THE UNDERGROUND WAS STILL ACTIVE, HE WOULD LIKELY HAVE LONG-BEEN PERMANENTLY DISQUALIFIED! YET, IN SPITE OF A CONTROVERSIAL CAREER, HE HAS REMAINED A STAPLE OF THE SEMI-OCTAGON FIGHTING WORLD FOR TWO YEARS!”

“Er, feels kinda harsh?” Natsu muttered to himself, sweating slightly. Though he didn’t really get what “controversial career” meant.

“WHILE THIS IS NOT FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE, DUE TO HIS HISTORY, MANY WILL NO DOUBT VIEW HIM AS REIGNING CHAMP AND DEFENDER! INNNNTTRRROOODUUUCCCINNNG… ‘MAD BULL’ MATTHEW BRON!”

A door Natsu hadn’t even seen was slammed open as if it had been kicked, and an enormous man–even bigger than the one that had managed to tag Natsu just a little bit ago, a man built like that potato head guy from Lamia Scale, and actually bearing a similar-shaped bald head–appeared, yanking off headphones and chucking them over his massive shoulder one of the lackeys who’d followed him out. The much shorter guy jumped, barely catching them and fumbling a lot once he had. “Mad Cow” or whatever grinned maniacally as he stormed for the ring, dark eyes wild.

The response from the crowd was mixed but mostly positive, Natsu quickly noticed as he glanced around. His eyes skated quickly over the group next to him (which was booing, unlike most of the crowd) then returned his focus to the stage-circle thing. He could see well enough, he was glad to note, even if his vision was nowhere near as sharp as it was back on Earthland. Big Guy took his place at the corner of the ring and immediately started pacing, lifting tree-like arms and roaring as he did so. Meanwhile his lackey scurried for the bit of protected corner behind him, trying to shout for his attention and getting nowhere as he continued to pace.

Natsu quickly decided he didn’t like the looks of this guy, intro aside. He was the type of asshole Natsu lived to knock down a peg, and despite his injuries and exhaustion, Natsu found himself appraising the big bastard, hands twitching. Sure, he wasn’t in the best shape, but since when had he been one to turn down the chance to kick some ass? It was more a reflex than anything. For about the billionth time since he’d landed here, he tried conjuring up some fire only to curse internally as all he got for his efforts was a wave of dizziness and a wash of helplessness.

“NOW FOR OUR CONTENDER,” the voice boomed. “SHE’D ONLY BARELY ENTERED THE UNDERGROUND BEFORE IT BECAME THE SEMI-UNDER, BUT WAS ALREADY MAKING WAVES! THIS FIGHTER HAS SPARKED INTENSE DEBATE ABOUT WHETHER WOMEN SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO FIGHT MEN–IN ANY OCTAGON!” More mixed din. Natsu frowned in confusion. Was it for the other fighters’ safety or something? Because someone should ban Erza from contributing to the guild hall violence. Oh, yes. That was a great idea. He’d have to bring the idea up to Gray when he got home.

“BUT IT’S DIFFICULT TO ARGUE WITH HER HANDY VICTORIES!” the voice boomed. “THANKS TO HER NEARLY-UNBROKEN STREAK OF INSANE WINS, SHE HAS BEEN NICKNAMED THE THE ‘PHOENIX’, ‘UNDERDOG’, ‘TENMEN’...AND HER PREFERRED NICKNAME…”

A new song started, and this one was undeniably cool, in Natsu’s opinion. Something hard, fast, and catchy, punctuated by an angry-sounding woman singing something about “not giving a damn” about something or other. The door at the opposite end of the ring swung open. A girl came swaggering out, and Natsu froze.

“THE DRAGONESS, LAYLAAAAA O'NEEEILLLLL!!!!”

It wasn’t his daughter. It couldn’t be. Her name wasn’t Layla. Her name was Nashi. His Nashi would be twelve, and this girl was in her late teens–maybe even her early twenties. The fact that her fighting nickname was “The Dragoness” was a nasty coincidence, but that’s all it was. This couldn’t be Earthland’s Nashi.

But it was this world’s Nashi. Of that, there was no doubt. And Natsu couldn’t make himself take his eyes off her, couldn’t even make himself blink as he stared, ignoring the cheering and booing all around him.

A couple strands of unruly pink hair at her bangs had broken free of their tight braids, as adorable and predictably unpredictable as his little girl’s. They clung to her forehead, bouncing as she strutted towards the monster still pacing, practically frothing at the mouth, and Natsu vaguely registered the sound of several peoples’ alarmed murmuring. If he hadn’t been so distracted, he’d have understood; she was about half the guy’s size and about -50% as insane-looking.

Not scared, though.

And…she looked like Lucy. She looked so much like Lucy that it hurt. He could still remember times when he’d call his little girl’s name, she’d turn around, and he’d gasp–because it really was like an adorable, wild little pink-haired Lucy turning to look up at him, her whole face lighting up like he was the greatest thing in Earthland. The memory choked him up, a feeling he’d gotten used to over the past seven years. He swallowed hard.

But that wasn’t Lucy’s smile. Natsu felt like he had seen that smile somewhere but he wasn’t particularly interested in thinking about it all that deeply, because what mattered was that it was her smile, his little girl’s, big and toothy and unmistakable–a little lopsided, the corners of her lips characteristically curling.

It hit his chest like a shot from Zeref, making him briefly clutch at his waistcoat’s dirtied fabric.

Natsu knew, firsthand, just how similar other worlds’ versions of his loved ones could be to his. Hell, Edolas Lucy had chopped off her hair to make it a little easier to distinguish herself from Earthland Lucy.

That didn’t make it hurt any less to suddenly see another world’s Nashi– Layla, this one was called. That was Nashi’s middle name. It made sense, when you thought about it. Names were one thing that seemed to sometimes differ slightly between worlds, as he’d learned on the 100-Year-Quest [*3]. Her canines were sorta sharp, maybe, but they weren’t Dragon Slayer sharp, like his and daughter’s. Besides. Edo Nashi and Fireball’s canines were a tiny bit sharper than normal, too.

It couldn’t be her. It couldn’t be. Looking at her still felt like being punched in the chest by Erza. Yet he couldn’t stop watching as the music, cheers, and boos faded, she stripped off her sweats (to much catcalling and whistling) to reveal a black sports bra/shorts getup sort of like “Mad Bull’s” shorts, revealing a body packed with much more muscle than any of Fairy Tail’s women would’ve allowed themselves to accumulate. She looked pretty badass, he decided.

The voice that was everywhere and nowhere boomed on:

“NOT ONLY A CHANCE AT THE UPCOMING TITLE ON THE LINE, BUT–POTENTIALLY–THE FUTURE OF MIXED SEMI-UNDERS. TWO CHALLENGERS, SQUARING OFF FOR A CHANCE AT THE SEMI-FINALS. THIS IS A GIGANTIC CULTURAL MOMENT IN THE HISTORY OF THIS SPORT… ‘MAD BULL’ MATTHEW BRON VS. THE ‘DRAGONESS’ LAYLA O'NEIL!”

“‘Dragoness’ is fucking right!” Mad Cow or whatever roared while he hugged one arm across his chest, grinning ferally at his much smaller opponent. “Here hoping some man will look at you, fugly?!”

Several people in the audience laughed. Even the announcer chuckled. Meanwhile, Natsu’s blood boiled. On some level, he knew he needed to separate himself from this. From this fight, from this “Nashi.” Especially when he was this powerless to do anything about any of it. But it was impossible to listen to someone say that to another version of his daughter and not have every protective instinct in his body flare, especially when the spectators apparently thought it was fucking hilarious.

However, her grin didn’t even flicker. “Like you’re one to talk!” she cackled. “You look like Popeye fucked Bigfoot!”

Natsu didn’t flinch at the language like many people in the audience seemed to. In fact, he found the disapproving murmurs confusing. The other guy hadn’t exactly been polite, but he hadn’t gotten the same reaction. Still, a solid number of people were laughing their asses off, including the group next to him which had booed Mad Cow.

He also had no clue what the hell she’d just said even meant, but the way Mad Cow’s smile dropped off his face, a handful of people started howling with laughter, and the commentator’s chuckles cut off abruptly was enough to make Natsu grin.

Some random guy in some sort of black, collared uniform entered the arena, signaling to the loud, annoying commentator. Unlike her opponent, no one had followed This Nashi into the arena; she was all alone. So she ran back to her own bit of protected yet empty corner and threw her clothes and a water bottle over the chainlink fence, then ran back towards the middle of the arena. There, she hopped up and down, shaking out her arms. Stretched them above her head.

“OUCH!” The commentator finally seemed to recover, though he sounded somewhat vexed. “WELL, ONE THING’S FOR SURE, THE CHALLENGER CAN TALK GAME…WHETHER SHE CAN LIVE UP TO IT IS ANOTHER QUESTION.”

“God, I fucking hate when Hansis commentates,” the guy next to Natsu muttered, his friends snorting in agreement. Then he glanced at Natsu–only to double take. “Oi, are you related to the Dragoness or something?!” he asked, eyes on his hair.

“Uhhh…” Natsu chuckled nervously, feeling himself start to sweat. He may have been what Erza would (and frequently did ) call an “impulsive idiot”, but he had no clue how to explain that he was the father of her other self. “Something like that.”

“Whoa, seriously?!” The guy’s friend leaned around him to look at Natsu with wide, shining eyes, then continued, “I won’t ask anymore, ‘cause obviously you’re trying to protect your identities or something, but that’s so cool! We’re huge fans!”

“Hmm…” Natsu said, scanning their apparel–t-shirts and hats emblazoned with her face and silhouette–and what looked like homemade signs of her name, written in fiery letters. “I can see that…what is this, exactly?” He asked this while looking around at the lights, spectators, an unfamiliar kind of money being exchanged and counted between several people.

Natsu tilted his head, blinking. “No?” he said.

“The semi-underground tournament?” the only girl in the group said, eyes almost as wide as her friend’s. When Natsu only continued to look confused, she said, “What, do you live under a rock?! You’ve at least heard of MMA, right? Mixed Martial Arts?”

He perked up at this. “Like a fight?! Hell, yeah! How do I get in on this?!” He grinned, cracking his knuckles, his earlier scuffles and empty stomach completely forgotten.

“YOU DON’T!” the entire group shouted, eyes bugging.

The dude who’d first started talking to him huffed, sweating slightly. “The ‘semi-underground’ octagon used to just be called ‘the underground fights,’” he explained loudly, Natsu still having to lean in to catch what he said with his new, bad ears over the increasingly excited din. “It was illegal, but, like, illegal in the ‘everyone knows but won’t squeal’ way, you know?”

Natsu nodded, fully getting this. After all, how many times had soldiers arrested him only for Queen Hisui to let him off with a finger-wag. Of course, his luck on that front had run out seven years ago…

“The feds finally cracked down on it,” the guy continued, “but didn’t prosecute any of the fighters. Now, it’s called the ‘Semi-Underground’...it’s got no weight-classes (which is why the Dragoness can fight big dudes like Mad Bull). All genders are free to compete and fight each other. It’s a bit more for entertainment than pure fighting prowess– that was different, before,” the guy added with a wistful tone. “But still! You can’t just go waltzing into the octagon, you know? Back in the basement where this used to happen, you could’ve gotten away with that, but now you’ve gotta work for it, you know? Seriously, do you live under a rock or something?”

Irritated, Natsu opened his mouth, but his response was cut off when a loud voice–not as loud as the announcer, but still–redrew all their attention to the ring. “Alright, fighters,” the black-collar guy said into a microphone which was smaller and not as loud as the commentator’s, quieting the audience. “We’ve been over the rules. Protect yourself at all times. Follow my instructions. We’re going to have a clean fight, you hear me?” He glared at Mad Bull, but This Nashi was the only one who dipped her chin in recognition. Natsu’s eyes narrowed along with hers when her opponent refused to acknowledge the guy’s words. “Now, touch gloves at this time, and come out ready to do this!”

Both fighters instantly danced away from each other. Black collar guy scowled. Both the commentator and the audience made sounds like “ OOOOOOOH!”

“NO TOUCH!” came the commentator’s gleeful voice, “I REPEAT, NEITHER FIGHTER TOUCHED GLOVES, AND SO FAR, NEITHER ARE REALLY MOVING FOR EACH OTHER–”

“SAY YOU’RE PRAYERS, BITCH!” Mad Cow roared. “YOU’RE DEAD MEAT!”

“BRING IT!” This Nashi roared back, and Mad Cow lunged, swinging in immediately with a big, dramatic overhand hook that would have knocked her out immediately if she hadn’t skated out of its way. It took about three similar exchanges for Natsu to sag in disappointment.

“Oi!” he shouted, utterly let down, “Where the hell’s the magic?!”

“Geez!” the guy next to him laughed. “The fight’s only just started: give them a minute to warm up! Then we’ll get to see the cool stuff.”

“What, they’re not allowed to use it at first or something?” Natsu asked, still staring as This Nashi fended off huge, devastating blows raining down from above and leapt back from the powerful kicks, eyes narrowed and expression tight.

“...Er, what?” the guy asked.

“Magic–duh!” Natsu huffed, flickering wide eyes between the guy and This Nashi, who was now darting backwards around the round-ish ring, still fending Mad Cow off, weaving and ducking with a speed few could hope to match. “You know?! Fire, Ice, Celestial Magic…?

The guy stared at him for a second along with his companions, all of whom were also sweating. It was then that Natsu knew:

Something more was going on here. Something he didn’t understand. This place…wherever he was, it was like Edolas. Not now, but back when he, Lucy, and the others had gone there. Magic didn’t just not exist, here; was some kind of… taboo on it.

“Oh, sorry,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. Trying to keep his voice as quiet as he could over the crowd, he continued, “I didn’t mean to say something that would get you in trouble...”

The group’s only response was to sidle away from him surreptitiously, glancing at him and sharing looks with wide eyes. Natsu was thrown for a loop once more. Ooo- kay, talk about overly-suspicious. Were there guards listening in on their conversation or something? As discreetly as possible, with his hand still at the back of his head, he looked around, eyes narrowed.

Yet…he saw nothing to warrant their suspicion. An unruly crowd…and an astonishing lack of guards. At the Grand Magic Games, there’d always been a ton of guards. Way more than he wanted to be there, honestly. Did this have something to do with the whole “underground” thing?

He looked at the group again, then realized something important: it was him they were looking at nervously. Nervously, and like…he was crazy or something.

It had taken time, but the years had made Natsu wiser–cooler–about situations like this. Even as his stomach sank with the realization that getting home was going to be a much harder task than he’d initially realized, he acknowledged that he’d need to be careful about mentioning Magic here. Dropping his hand, he forced a small smile at them then turned his attention back to the arena, where Mad Cow continued to chase This Nashi around the edge of the arena. Meanwhile, his mind continued to reel, loud to himself and no one else.

“–IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE SHE’S CAUGHT IN A CLINCH, HERE, AND THEN OUR NIGHT WILL BE OVER!” the commentator was blaring. It was sort of surprising, how easily he’d been able to tune out when Natsu’s ears were registering so little. “I HATE TO SAY IT–” (Based on the glee in his tone, Natsu doubted that.) “–BUT HOWEVER MUCH OF AN EXTRAORDINARY FIGHTER SHE IS, SHE’S STILL A FEMALE FIGHTER. HER OPPONENT HAS WELL OVER A HUNDRED POUNDS ON HER [*4]. AND, AGAIN, I HATE TO SAY THIS–BUT THERE ARE JUST PHYSICAL BARRIERS NO CHICK FIGHTER WILL EVER BE ABLE TO OVERCOME! RIGHT NOW, THIS IS A DOG FIGHT, AND NOT ONE SHE CAN KEEP SCRAPPING IN! SHE’S NOT GOING TO COME OUT AS THE ‘UNDERDOG,’ THIS TIME–”

“Man, she’s getting her ass beat!” someone from the group broke the awkward silence as This Nashi was swept aside by a blow that caught the guard at her ear.

“Maybe she’ll make a comeback!” another guy said, tremulous but hopeful, as a log-like shin crashed into her stomach.

“She definitely will!” the guy who’d first spoken to Natsu said, though there was a distant note of doubt in his voice as she barely reeled from an arrow-fast straight right.

Despite the awkwardness of their last interaction, Natsu couldn’t help appreciating these people, who were so devoted to this world’s Nashi. He decided to end their night more positively. “Is that what you think?” he asked in a somewhat bored tone, eyes on the girl still gliding backwards, dancing away from the hits and kicks or else blocking them. He felt, rather than saw, the group’s eyes jumping to him, some of them quickly leaping away only to dart back.

“What do you mean?” the first guy ventured when he said nothing else, edging a little closer once more.

Natsu crossed his arms over his broad chest, eyes thinning as Big Boy brought down a hailstorm of fists on This Nashi’s head. His eyes tracked the way a particularly big hit caught her forearm–but only barely, seeing as she’d slid out of the enormous range even as she blocked. Just like he’d thought…

His stomach churned uncomfortably. It was eerie and cruel, how much her movements and the memories aligned–

“OUCH! That hurt, Daddy!” After the exclamation, Nashi began grumbling, vigorously rubbing her forearm where his fist had just him.

“Woops!” Natsu chuckled sheepishly, “My bad!”

Despite the fact that she was still rubbing the arm he’d tapped with a light hit, the little girl who barely came up above his knees scowled.

It was midday, now. In their front lawn; his and Happy’s house, now much larger with the rooms he’d added for Lucy and their kids.

“But–” He grew serious. “–you think your enemies will take it easy on you, Nashi? You think they’ll give you a break because you say ‘ouch’?”

She dropped her arms to her sides and scowled–pouted, really. She was so cute, he couldn’t have kept his lips from quirking into a grin if he tried. Strutting forward, he planted a hand on top of her head, rubbing the unruly locks. He only grinned wider when she turned her scowl/pout up to him. “Sorry, kiddo, but they won’t!”

Lucy would have lost her mind, if she saw the interaction. Natsu could just hear her now: “NATSU, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?! SHE’S FIVE! BE CAREFUL, WOULD YOU? BLAH BLAH BLURGH BLAH– !”

He never really got Lucy, when she acted like that. Nashi was a Dragon Slayer, like him. She could take much more than a normal human, but would never learn that she could if he didn’t show her! Not to mention that Igneel had been way tougher on him, when he was five. Besides, he didn’t want his kid to be some weakling! What father did want that?

Not any good ones, that was for sure. Especially not when their kids had Nashi’s determination and drive.

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” he apologized again, still rubbing her head affectionately. “But you’ve got to understand…if I hurt you, it’s because I know your enemies will hurt you the same way…I don’t want it to surprise you. I want you to be able to fight back, still. You do still want to be a big-time Dragon Slayer, don’t you?”

She stared up at him dubiously, but the smile caught on quick. She’d never been able to resist smiling back at him.

“...Yeah,” she admitted finally, feigning reluctance.

He lifted his hand off her head, cupping it around his ear and leaning down towards her. “What was that?!” he shouted. “I couldn’t hear you…what was it you want?!”

“I–pfft–I WANT–” Her small smile turned to a grin–the big, corner-curled grin only his daughter ever could or would achieve. The one that always melted his heart.

“I WANNA BE A DRAGON SLAYER!” she managed to roar through her grin. “NO–I MEAN, I WANNA BE THE STRONGEST DRAGON SLAYER EVER!”

“HELL YEAH, YOU DO!” he roared back, the pride managing to make his chest burst even as he squared up again, preparing for more training. An adrenaline only teaching one’s prodigy could spark electrocuted his system. “IF THAT’S REALLY TRUE, THEN COME ON, NASHI! YOU’VE GOT MORE IN YOU! I KNOW YOU DO!”

“OH YEAH? WELL I DO! I GOT WAY MORE IN ME!” She dropped into the stance he’d taught her, grinning for everything she was worth. The sun illuminated her smile.

He somehow managed to grin even more widely. “Right, then listen up!” he commanded. “When Dragon Slayers fight, they got one big advantage: they can take a whole bunch of hits–then still get up. So that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.”

“...Huh?!” The little girl’s eyes bulged out of her head. “You’re sayin’ I’m gonna let myself get hit?!”

“Well, not too hard,” he elaborated. “And not too much…you’re just gonna play defense for a while, see?” He moved for her, throwing a fist much more slowly than he normally would have. Automatically, she wove away, eyes wide on his face. His right fist was followed by his left, then a kick–all too sluggish to be real. She easily moved around and blocked all of them. “This way,” he continued, throwing another kick. “You can learn the guy you’re fighting, how step, how they breathe…”

“How they step…how they breathe…” she repeated to herself in a murmur, eyes flickering all over his body as he continued to pantomime a real fight. Natsu couldn’t help but grin. Nashi was a distractible kid, but when it came to fighting, she was always on the ball.

Natsu didn’t mind one bit when Lucy blamed him for that.

“...how they fight,” he finished.

“...how they fight!” she whispered.

He started speeding up his movements. Let her orient before he lit up his fists. She mirrored him, flames igniting her much smaller fists. Their dance became even faster “That’s it, Nashi!” he praised as she leapt back from a kick, only letting it clip her shoulder. “Get into the flow of it! Read my movements! Remember, breathe, and–”

“She’s reading him,” he murmured, voice softer than he’d meant it to be. “Fending him off and waiting for the right moment; his hits are only clipping her.” His hunger was catching up with him again, as was his pain. He ached. He wanted to sleep. And…

…It hurt. It hurt too much. Knowing it wasn’t his Nashi…that just made it hurt more. Each hit, each block, each flash of those brown eyes…they felt like shards of glass piercing his heart.

I can’t stay here, he realized.

“What was that?” the girl in the group asked, venturing closer to him.

His heart was heavy, sinking as he watched the girl. Embarrassment washed over him as he realized that had been a stupid thing to say in the first place. This wasn’t his Nashi. She wasn’t using what he’d taught her because he hadn’t been the one to train her. Hell, she probably wasn’t even gauging her opponents’ movements; she was probably fighting for her life, here.

She would lose.

“Nothin’,” he replied thickly, dropping his arms even as he watched the girl roll away from a rather impressive and extremely long-ranged crescent kick, not even the man’s big toe catching her at all. “I was wrong…enjoy the rest of the fight, guys.” He used the ensuing beat of silence to stare–for just one more second–at the girl. This world’s version of his girl.

Without thinking, he went to heft up his backpack, only to sigh in quiet defeat–the exhale almost visible even in the warm air–as he remembered it wasn’t there; he was just a weakling in this world. That’s why his back (and whole body) felt so heavy.

“Oh, you’re leaving?” the first guy who’d spoken to him said as he turned away, pushing back through the crowd. His tone was an odd mixture of relieved and disappointed. Natsu said nothing, merely waving.

Overhead, the booming voice–which he’d tuned out during the competition–continued to sound off. “–AN ADMITTEDLY UNBELIEVABLE DODGE, BY ,” it said, clearly shocked, as Natsu pushed past a woman who was obviously excited to be moving closer to the arena. “BUT THE NEXT FLURRY OF BLOWS LANDS, ALTHOUGH IT APPEARS SHE’S BLOCKED MOST OF THEM–”

“YOU’RE DONE, BITCH!” roared Mad Cow, so loud that he managed to drown out the commentator–who went silent, anyway. This made Natsu pause, his brows knitting with fury.

It doesn’t matter, he reminded himself. She’s not your daughter. He refused to look back, forced himself to take another step, then another. She’s just some fighter from another world who’s, apparently, out of her league. She’s not–

A loud slam, like a body falling on a mat. “SHE’S DOWN! I REPEAT, ’S DOWN!”

Natsu smirked. “See, dumbass?” he murmured to himself.

“IT’S ALL OVER, FOLKS! SHE’S–”

All of a sudden, a fleshy CRACK rang through the air, followed by an enormous chorus of gasps and cries of surprise from the crowd. A deafening silence ensued.

“... HOLY– UNBELIEVABLE!” the commentator managed. “A KICK FROM THE GROUND–AND O’NEIL'S BACK ON HER FEET! THEY’VE GAINED GROUND FROM EACH OTHER, AND MAD BULL–MAD BULL IS NOW TRYING TO RECOVER!”

Despite himself, Natsu slowed even as he urged himself to keep walking. Even as he continued to force himself not to turn back. Looking back is only a distraction. It’s not Nashi. That is not Nashi. It’s not–

“Man, I really hate guys like you, you know that?”

The seething voice was what made him stop, closing his eyes. There was just…something about it. A growl. A fire. Something that punched right back into his memories:

“Remember, breathe, and keep your eyes on my chest! That way, you can see my whole body at the corners of your eyes!” A combo, one which he pumped more speed and power to than before–throwing her off on purpose.

“Oof!” she grunted as she landed on her butt.

“There, when you fall– that’s when you make your comeback! Now that you’ve watched your opponent, and tricked him into thinking you’re down– now is when you get back up and blow them away! That’s how a Dragon Slayer fights! That’s how a Fairy Tail Wizard fights!” She stared up at him with huge eyes, shining with admiration, and flushed cheeks.

He grinned.

“So?! Get up! Always get back up, Nashi! I’m not asking the impossible of you–you can do this! I know you can!”

“I–I will!” she scrambled to her feet, fists blazing with gold heat as she lunged for him. “I’ll always get back up! No matter what, I’ll–”

His chest seized. He clenched his jaw, knowing he needed to make himself keep walking, but unable to do it. Even as people churned around him, trying to push past him, he found himself shoving them off, refusing to move from exactly where he was. One foot planted in front of the other. Half-hovering. Eyes still closed.

Whatever just happened had quieted the crowd, an anticipatory sort of silence that made him clench his fists, eyes still closed.

And then, Natsu’s world flipped upside down:

“You didn’t even bother to study my previous fights, did you?” Her growl carried across the hushed crowd. “Tch, typical…if you had, you’d know: You’d know I always get back up!”

His eyes flew open.

He whirled back around and watched, wide-eyed and world rocking, as the pink haired girl rose. Rolled her shoulders against her ears, one at a time. The grin was gone, a heavy, intimidating scowl having taken its place as she recovered, getting her feet back underneath herself, her stance back in place. Her nose was wrinkled in fury. Her eyes burned.

Natsu’s lips parted on a gasp as he stared.

Mad Cow scoffed, hunched and rubbing his chin with a hand like a mitt. Natsu guessed that This Nashi must’ve caught him there–probably with a kick, given the size difference. That must have been what made the crowd react with shock. They were recovering now, though, getting louder.

“And why the fuck would I bother to do that?!” Mad Cow shouted, dropping his hand. “I don’t need to! Every guy you’ve faced could’ve beaten you easily if they’d quit acting like even more of a little bitch than you! You shouldn’t fucking be here anyway…fucking birds, knowing dudes will take it easy on you so you can take advantage of it and collect the reward…well I’M NOT ONE OF THEM!” He roared the last part. The bitter fury in his voice was a kind Natsu was familiar with.

“Studying what you can find of your opponent’s fighting style–that’s basic! And you wanna sit here and bitch about how I don’t deserve to be here, you lumpy-headed fuck?! ”

“The FUCK you just call me?!” McCow snarled back.

“YOU HEARD ME, SHITWIT!”

“THAT’S IT!” the man shouted. “I’ve had it! I was gonna take it easy on you, but–”

“THAT’S MY LINE!”

It seemed that was both their limit.

They flew at each other. But now, everything was different, and Natsu doubted that anyone without a trained eye and fighting experience like him could recognize it.

Apparently, the commentator was one such person: “THIS IS–THIS IS INCREDIBLE!” the voice boomed, full of disbelief, as the girl caught the fist rocketing towards her face with a hard elbow, making Mad Cow let out a roar of pain. She kicked away an arm flying towards her head, and launched a sidekick at his now-uncovered stomach–one that landed hard. She built on the damage, bearing down on him as he stumbled backwards, tripping over his own heels. A right roundhouse followed by a left to his head. Despite the fact he was obviously disorientated, he caught the first one– blocked it and tried, unsuccessfully to catch her foot–but not the second, which cracked into his ear and made him stagger, her chasing him and hammering him with surprisingly powerful blows. Each one of her hits accumulated speed and strength.

The commentator picked up again, saying something or other about “striking machines”, but Natsu didn’t hear. His eyes were wide, now, and glued to the girl cracking her shin into her opponent’s nose, teeth bared. The expression on her face…the fire in her eyes…the speed of her hits…her fighting style…it was like he’d begun watching the fight currently happening through one eye and a stream of memories through the other, his breath going still in his lungs–

“–No matter what, I’ll always get back up!” screamed the little girl, running forward and hammering him with fiery strikes, kicks, and even elbows. They’d only just started elbow work. Natsu staggered back with each good combo she landed. He put in the effort to make it look convincing, pride swelling within his chest.

“That’s it! Build on it! Faster…harder! C’mon!”

This Nashi slipped underneath and into one of Mad Cow’s big overhand hooks, the corrected trajectory of his fist barely skidding over her shoulder as her right fist tore up, slamming into his chin. Even as his eyes rolled and he staggered backwards, her expression was so mutinous it was almost funny.

But as good as the uppercut was, it turned out to be a set-up:

“LOOK AT THIS COMBO…CROSS, HOOK–WHOA! AN ABSOLUTELY DEVASTATING LEG KICK! CLASSIC MUAY THAI-INSPIRED COMBO FROM TURNING–”

“FUCKING BITCH–!” Mad Cow roared, but his opponent cut him off with a voice like thunder.

“I’M THE BADDEST BITCH YOU’VE EVER MET!”

“I’LL ALWAYS GET BACK UP! I WILL! I’M GONNA BE A GREAT DRAGON SLAYER, JUST LIKE YOU! NO–I’LL EVEN BEAT YOU, ONE DAY!” Nashi took a deep breath, and Natsu grinned, allowing the pause in the fight, because he knew what was coming. The catchphrase both like his and not. Inspired by him, but all her own.

Her fists blazed brighter than ever. The sun illuminated her grin.“JUST WATCH ME, DADDY! DON’T EVEN BLINK! BECAUSE I’VE–”

“–GOT A FIRE IN ME THAT YOU’LL NEVER PUT OUT!”

Mad Cow’s eyes were wild with fear as he desperately swung for another, big lead cross–one which spelled his downfall. The Dragoness leapt off her left leg–her back leg. Her right shin cracked into his already dipping head.

He fell forward and bounced off the mat, limp as a ragdoll, while the audience screamed all around him.

Even as the giant fell still, she made for his prone form, fist raised, but didn’t fight at all when the black-collared man appeared seemingly from nowhere, grabbed her around the waist, and practically threw her away. Instead, This Nashi– The Nashi skipped backwards, smirking, and raised a wrapped fist.

And that was the realization which thundered through Natsu, now gaping up at the victorious, pink-haired fighter stalking towards the edge of the cage: not This Nashi. The Nashi.

After seven, grief-filled years, Natsu Dragneel was absolutely sure he had just found his daughter.

*1. Yes, there will be quotes from the original series (the anime dub, sub, or the manga depending on whichever version I like best) at the beginning of each chapter. HOWEVER. The quotes are not spoilers and are often only tangentially related to my plotline. The one for this chapter, for instance, is specifically about Edolas, but is not actually true of the world where Natsu has landed.

*2. Yes, I know the canon Edolas Nalu child is “Nasha.” I decided on “Nashi”, instead, for reasons which will be explained later.

*3. Sorry in advance, but I pretty much kept what little I remembered/liked from 100YQ and ditched everything I didn’t. Same with the original story, but way more with 100YQ. Idk what it is but even though I’ve read the whole thing, 100YQ has this unique quality where a lot of what happens slips straight out of my mind as soon as I’ve read it. In one eye, out the other. So you’ll just have to roll with me, sorry.

*4. Real-life inspiration for Layla (/Nashi) comes mostly from Ronda Rousey, whose biography I read and happen to have on hand, along with Kaoklai Kaennorsing (especially his fighting style). Those are the two main ones. If you’ve read My Fight, Your Fight, you’ll understand how Layla (/Nashi’s) personality is inspired by her–especially as you go on. I highly recommend looking up the Thai kickboxer/Muay Thai fighter Kaoklai Kaennorsing. He has been called the Giant-Slayer because he did, in fact, defeat opponents who had over 100 pounds on him. Watching his fights is just an incredible experience. Other inspirations include Rose Namajunas, Connor McGregor, and some others. There are also several fictional inspirations including and outside Fairy Tail which I won’t bore you with (some of them I’m sure fellow anime fans will be able to guess lol).

#nalu #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nashi dragneel #nasha dragneel #gruvia #gajevy #jerza #fan fiction #fanfiction #2nd gen #post-canon #if this is wonky i'll fix it tomorrow. too tired now.#nalu fic

45 notes · View notes

notesofarichlycolorednight · 9 months ago

Text

what's this i see?

could this be true?

a miraculous ladybug episode i enjoy from season 2?

s2ep9 frightningale

lol.

anyway, her akumatization outfit was atrocious. who the fuck greenlit that.

other than some like realism nitpicks (the way auditions were held, the fact that they had to start filming immediately without any like training or practice) i actually did enjoy this episode.

tho one more thing i want to complain about before i talk about why i enjoyed it: the fact that a music video in paris about ladybug and chat noir by an italian musician is supposed to be promotional material for gabriel's fashion line in china and korea is so strange to me. how is that supposed to appeal to the market in china and korea??? wouldn't it make more sense to do a collaboration with like a kpop and/or cpop band that wear his designs instead??? like it even keeps the music video aspect.

oh wait, last thing: chloe in a marinette/ladybug wig. that was. a lot.

but yeah, i don't really have much else to say negatively. the pacing was good. clara's always rhyming was a little cheesy but as you can see from the beginning of this post, i got into the groove of it. there's nothing wrong with a little cheese. esp when it's done so sincerely. i'm willing to put up with a lot of cheesy and/or cringey stuff when it's sincere. it was actually really funny that even though hawkmoth wasn't hit by her whip, he still rhymed to like encourage her further.

the dancing of ladybug and chat noir was a little weird but that's more personal than anything.

but what i liked most about it was the solution bc it actually felt like they were a team for once. the concept of them dancing as one was fun bc dance partners are in conversation and idk the symbolism i am probably looking too much into bc i don't think the writers thought about it as much as i am right now. and it's always nice to see chat noir's power actually put to good use, tho rhyming something with "cataclysm" is rough and i don't really think they managed it. more so because he says "optimism" and then "cataclysm" and i think that's cheating. they should've found a way to make that complete sentence/rhyme. but anyway. i also did like that they both got hit instead of just chat noir this time around.

okay, so i will say, swinging back to more criticism territory, i do think this episode would've been stronger elsewhere, and honestly in a better show. i think that if this was more serialized and they had sown a little discourse between them, like they're having a bit of trouble communicating with each other and there'd been some misunderstandings and hurt feelings, this would've been a really good episode to resolve all of that, and would've been really cathartic. or even if they had just put this episode after syren or something, yknow? like i don't like that adrien throws a hissy-fit, but it would've fit better narratively, if i can only work with what they already put out.

i'll end on a positive, though. i really liked the ending music video. i think it was a great idea to have all of marinette's friends dress in the masks and dance to the music video. it was really cute, really sweet, and i like that marinette danced with adrien and luka, who were both wearing ladybug masks. that was cute. (uh but again, how is that supposed to be promotion material for gabriel's fashion line in korea and china? like that's even further from what they had originally planned. he allowed that??)

edit: i enjoyed the rest of the episode so much i forgot that i also wanted to comment on the fact that the creator broke the law of the magical girl genre and didn't explain their disguises as magic. the reason that magical girls don't generally wear masks is bc the magic of the transformation makes them unrecognizable! but they completely ignored that and instead had some weird false-tense moment of them almost putting on the masks, and thinking that would reveal their identities. lame! like, look, any other show, i wouldn't have commented. but don't say you were inspired by magical girl anime and then break the genre rules like that.

ah, alas, woe is me

i could not end without more critique

it was just not meant to be

#chirp.txt #chirp.ml

0 notes

ahtsumu · 4 years ago

Text

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu ! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff

703 notes · View notes

dyyydrew · 3 years ago

Text

thoughts of an anxious kid in this rainy evening

(this is about love and all of those cringey stuff so skip this post if you hate those lol)

while on my way home i can't stop thinking of things that could potentially ruin my own brain lol. this is a first time in a while na gusto kong mag last yung pag uusap namin ng kausap ko. as cringey as it sounds pero i want this to work. but as an overthinker, things just keep on coming in and out of my brain. what if they don't like the way i dress? what if im not good looking enough for their liking? what if my flaws are too much that they can't ignore it? what if boring pala ako for them and uninteresting? and a whole lot of what ifs.

pero as always, Taylor Swift lyrics ang nag se-save sa akin from these intrusive thoughts. if this won't work then that's okay. "and if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow" nga raw. maybe we just crossed paths again for a reason.

but for now i'll brush these anxious thoughts aside and will continue singing Cornelia Street, lalo na yung line na "and i hope i never lose you/hope it never ends".

#thoughts #spilled thoughts

7 notes · View notes

f1nalboys · 3 years ago

Text

SCREAM 5 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

ignore alll of the spelling mistakes heheh im not even bothering to fix them)

alright so first off let me say i LOVED this movie!!!!! the theater we went to was empty save for me my mom and my sister so it was fun being able to talk to my sister about what was going on lol (i am a MAJOR movie talker im not even sorry)

SO HERE ARE THE PROS:

the actors and actresses were fucking amazing, especially the one for Tara, Amber, Mindy, Chad, and Sam. i loved how well they worked together and how they tied in the old cast.

MINDY AND CHAD <333333 literal loves of my life right there especially fucking mindy oh my GOD and them being randys neice and nephew??? and them bringing back Heather Matarazzo!!!

speaking of, the randy shrine <333 how they never forgot him and talked about him throughout the movie, how they dedicated a movie room to him :,) i especially loved the little painting they had of him GAH i wish mindy and chad had been able to meet him :((((

amber as the villian was great! she was so unhinged she really channeled her stu in the last 20 minutes.

deweys death like BRO it was heartbreaking and hurt to watch but it was done so well!!!! and what a fucking way to go too, and the 'it's an honor' line... CHILLS

i liked what they used billy for and how they didn't overload us with his cgi version like i half expected them too

the three girlbosses sidney gale and sam at the end <3333

SPEAKING OF SAM! what a fucking final girl! her killing richie was so cathartic i swear

mentioning mindy again GOD shes the loml im gonna write for her there i said it >:) i loved her relationship with chad they were so funny together and such siblings. i really loved the callback to when dewey was being put into the ambulance in the first one when he does a thumbs up :,)

interesting that this is the first movie in the franchise to do a fire kill too!!!! like yeah, scream 3 had the house blow up but that's not technically a fire kill mhm

there were lots of fun call backs to the original first two (and the third one <3 mark kincaid and sidney are married and im both of their mistress) and some twists on iconic lines like the scene in scream 1 where randy is telling jamie to turn around while ghostface is behind him and mindy is telling uncle randy to turn around :,) gah

i loved how gorey this one was, especially the opening scene omg!!!! a little eh on the cgi blood but i'll let it slide bc there were so many moments where i fucking cringed (the ankle breaking scene in particular)

OMG and the finale being in stus house!!!!!!! fucking iconic

ONTO THE CONS:

honestly i hate to say it but i found the reasoning behind the killing a little....idk flat? i like the concept of toxic fan culture and everything but idk something about it just made me go hmmm

some of the lines were so cringey OMGGGG like some of the call backs were so well done and other ones were like.... just so on the nose it made me melt into my chair

some of the character decisions man.... especially in the fucking hospital with dewey made me want to scream. his actions made sense because hes a king but when he was getting attacked no one fucking helped him???? god.

both amber and richie being the killers was really predictable tbh but i still liked them being the killers so its alright. and ambers performance in particular really sold it for me (i also found richie so funny omlllll)

still a little iffy on the cgi billy. i know de-aging is hard so this isn't really that bothersome to me but there were some parts of him talking where i was like thats skeet with the tik tok beauty filter on fr

the few mentions of stu :( i wish he had a bit more to do with it

all in all i loved this movie and it was a very faithful and great sequel! i really hope they do another one following sam and the twins though, i think the ending really opened up doors for more killers, y'know? I also think it would've been cool if the twins HAD been the killers! like, imagine that; randys neice and nephew are sick of him not getting recognition for his bravery and his sacrifice so they kill to bring his legacy back in a way (or something like that)

ANYWAYS if i had to give it a rating, i'd do 9/10!!! and it's a high 9, there was only just those few things i didn't like

#scream 5 #scream 5 spoilers #scream 5 spoiler post #scream franchise

13 notes · View notes

tuanhood · 4 years ago

Text

hypnotic | part one

paring: vampire!im jaebeom x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut (part two), vampire au

warnings: language, cringey vampire cliches i’m sure

word count: 9,800+

summary: jaebeom has been waiting 200 years to find his mate - the one who can break his trance and isn’t affected by his hypnotic abilities. You don’t seem to be that person, but he just can’t seem to get you out of his mind… why?

a/n: hello guys! so i originally had this planned to post tomorrow (the 30th) but it was so long i decided to split it up and post one part today and the other part on the 31st! This first part is mostly Jaebeom and not a lot of Y/N but SO BE IT. This is also my first time writing in the genre of vampire/fantasy loL so please forgive me because it’ll probably be cringe and not make sense. if that’s the case lol drop me a message!! also vampire jaebeom was requested FOREVER ago. so here it is practically 3 decades later. and i attempted to make a banner. if someone can make me a better one it’s v much WELCOME.

part two

Knock Knock Knock

He wished he could just pretend like he was asleep. He wished he could use that as an excuse to not answer the door, but based on the very strong feeling he was getting from who was behind it – that wouldn’t work.

“I know you’re in there! Just answer the damn door Jaebeom!”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes, leave it to Bambam to be at his front door before the day even had a chance to truly begin. Before letting him in, he went through all the possible things or excuses he could use to get out of whatever his younger friend had in mind.

“Is your vintage YSL here or is it still at the dry cleaners?” Bambam asked, pushing past Jaebeom as soon as he has the door partway open.

Gruffly, Jaebeom turned back into his apartment to Bambam already halfway to his bedroom – no doubt to look through his closet, “What are you doing here Bam?”

“What does it look like? I’m here for the vintage YSL asshole!”

He’s learned by now that it’s better to let him do his thing – whatever that may mean. So instead of following Bambam, he plopped down onto the same couch he’s had for nearly 15 years. “You know when I first bought that shirt it wasn’t considered vintage!”

Jaebeom waited for a response, but instead, he was met with silence. After a few moments – many of them thinking about how maybe it was time to replace the couch – he felt his “vintage” YSL button-down hit him in the face.

He groaned; the impact was surely going to create wrinkles in the material he tried to keep in pristine condition. It was ironic since he was often heard making fun of how much Bambam cared about clothes, but Jaebeom liked to keep his things nice. “Bam I just got it back from getting cleaned a couple of days ago.”

“Put it on.”

The tone of his friend’s voice seemed rather impatient. If he had closed his eyes, Jaebeom would have thought he was talking to Jinyoung or even himself.

“Why do I need to put it on? It’s 8 in the morning; where are we going?”

“Um excuse me? Did you forget what day it was? Now come on, we’re meeting Jinyoung at that new café down the street in fifteen.”

He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, trying to picture the café on the mental map he keeps in his mind, “the one that used to be a video store in the 90s?”

Bambam made his way into the living room, picking up a few glasses that rested on the coffee table Jaebeom’s feet were on top of, and marched over to the small kitchen. Jaebeom has lived in this apartment more years than he’d like to admit, especially because enough time had passed that the neighbors he had were clearly aging and he just stayed 26. The thought of moving somewhere new often enters his mind, but with this place, he just can’t bring it in himself to go quite yet. It’s almost as though something is tying him to this city, this place – like he’s waiting for something.

“Yes, and a speakeasy in the 20s both of which are not important right now because we live in the 21st century Jaebeom. Now come on, Jinyoung’s waiting – that asshole is always early.”

He heard Bambam mumble something along the lines of known him 100 years, would it kill him to just be on time for once, as he furiously dropped the glasses on the kitchen counter.

“Do I have to go?”

Bambam paused his motions of putting Jaebeom’s dirty dishes into the sink to stare the older vampire down, “Jaebeom you only turn 200 once.”

He scoffed in response, “Jesus don’t remind me.”

“We have to make a whole day of it! So please just put the shirt on, because I want you looking presentable,” he stopped in the middle of his sentence, suddenly wiggling his eyebrows, “you never know what could happen.” The final word is drawn out, almost sing-song like and it drives Jaebeom up the wall because he knows exactly what Bambam is referencing.

For Jaebeom and those like Jaebeom, they didn’t consider the day they were born as their birthday, but instead as the day they turned. There was no point in celebrating their birth anymore as they were no longer alive. However, at this point after 200 birthdays, – alive and dead combined - Jaebeom was beginning to believe that there was no point to those either. He always knew being immortal was a curse but day by day that idea was only solidifying itself in his mind.

Jaebeom let out a gruff breath which only made Bambam look up from the fork he was scrubbing, “Bam I don’t know what you think is going to happen today… but it certainly isn’t that.”

The “that” he was referencing was one of the main factors that as of late had made him feel like living forever was indeed a waste. It was the thing that was supposed to make him feel “complete.” According to old texts and traditional vampire folklore, he was now walking around half full, but once he met his mate, he would become whole. At first, he didn’t believe the tale. He had gotten by so far without a mate that the idea of him not being complete made him laugh. But watching both Bambam and Jinyoung find their mates – Bambam 70 years ago and Jinyoung 16 years ago – made him finally acknowledge and reflect on the piece of himself he was missing.

And fuck he was lonely.

Bambam chuckled at him as if being in on his own personal joke. His friend was strange like that sometimes, “just put the shirt on Jaebeom.”

By the time he’s had the shirt on and Bambam has somehow convinced him to let him wear his Rolex he got as a gift from his friend Jackson in 1920, Jaebeom feels mentally prepared to leave the house and embark on this dreadful day. The reminder that he has now been around for 200 years and still is not whole.

“Finally,” Jinyoung sighed when Jaebeom and Bambam finally reached the café down the street, “I’ve been waiting 20 minutes.”

A disgruntled Bambam checks his watch, “well if you don’t want to wait every single time, don’t be so fucking early,” he promptly turned to Jaebeom to share his grief regarding their friend, “you think he would learn after all this time.”

“Let’s just go order,” Jaebeom shrugged, not caring to be in another disagreement between his longer than life friends.

“Be honest you’re early on purpose just so it gives you something to complain about and a reason to make us feel bad!”

Jinyoung ignored Bambam’s theory, replying to the oldest, “no need. I already ordered for the three of us. It’s a special day, the birthday boy doesn’t need to pay,” he glanced at Bambam, “you on the other hand…”

The two new arrivals, flop down into the sofa chairs on either side of Jinyoung, along of them situated to make a half-circle in front of a low coffee table. The three of them had somehow stuck into this… pattern. Years of friendship that contained years of Bambam/Jinyoung squabbles that Jaebeom would often have to mediate. Patterns were nice, but sometimes they would get old – especially after so long.

As the two of them argue over whether or not Bambam should pay Jinyoung back for a simple iced Americano because Bam swears he got the drinks the last two times, Jaebeom looks over to the counter where the baristas work on – no doubt – the plethora of orders they have. The factor of the café being new has certainly been the cause of the popularity and amount of people in the shop. He can’t help but feel bad for the individuals working on the drinks – three years ago he had been one of them for roughly 18 months and knew that it wasn’t as easy as it appeared to be.

In retrospect, Jaebeom didn’t have to work. He had so much time to learn and understand what it meant to be financially responsible. Not only that, but he’s literally had hundreds of years to save. Plus, his early investments in companies ended up landing him some pretty substantial and valuable shares. Jaebeom was sitting on quite the pretty penny.

“Wow your portfolio is remarkable… I’ve never seen one like it,” his latest financial advisor had said to him in complete awe, “I mean an early investor in Amazon? Apple? Mastercard?”

Jaebeom had laughed nervously, “What can I say? My grandpa had good intuition, I guess.”

Money aside, he had wanted something to do with his time – hence his barista job. It was fun, but like most things, Jaebeom just grew tired of it and as he watched the girl working the espresso machine let out an exhausted breath, he realized that he wasn’t missing it.

Jaebeom has become good at studying people. It was something he still wasn’t sure of whether it was a vampire thing or just something he had picked up over time. Watching the girl at the machine, her hair is in a low bun, a few strands falling in front of her face. It’s clear with the way the hair tie is situated, that the hairstyle was once a bit neater, tighter, and sat at the middle or even top of her head. However, the now fallen placement and slight disarray signal how busy she’s been working and how fried she must be feeling.

He looks to the string bracelet on her wrist, visible from far away enough for Jaebeom to conclude that she must have someone in her life deemed important to wear one of those “friendship” bracelets. He never saw the point, but humans were strange creatures, despite him once being one.

Jaebeom’s breath hitches when he catches sight of the delicately drawn tattoo on her wrist near the bracelet. It’s of lavender and it immediately reminds him of his mother who had loved exploring the lavender field that had been near his home when he was a child. Despite all the time that has passed since he lost his mother, the pain that aches inside of Jaebeom when he thinks of her isn’t any less.

His thoughts are interrupted by the call at the coffee bar, “Order for Jinyoung.”

The call comes from the overworked girl he had been studying and Jaebeom wants more than anything to stand up and retrieve their orders. He finds a weird want to hear what her laugh sounds like. Maybe he could say something or strike up a conversation that would-

“What are you doing?” It takes Jaebeom a moment to notice that he has partially stood up from his chair as if he’s about to go somewhere. Cluelessly, he replied, “going to get the drinks.”

The youngest shook his head, “No way! Birthday boys don’t get their drinks, they don’t lift a finger.”

He knew Bambam was one to take birthdays seriously, but this was beginning to feel like it was going the extra mile too many.

“I’ll get it.”

Jaebeom watched Bambam get up to retrieve the drinks. He expects him to just grab the drinks and return to the table, but instead, Bambam says something to the girl. Arching his neck to the side, he tries to make a clear path to eavesdrop on what’s being said, hearing being one of the benefits of turning. Unfortunately, the café is too loud for him to focus on the conversation and he’s defeated by the fact that he’ll have to stay in the dark.

The girl laughs loudly at something Bambam said and Jaebeom can’t help but feel mixed about it. On one hand, he got his wish – hearing her laugh – but on the other hand, he wasn’t the cause of it. For some reason it makes him bring his clench and unclench his fists which rest on the arms of the sofa chair. Jinyoung takes notice.

Jaebeom quickly looks down at his lap when he senses that Bambam is returning to where they’re sat, not wanting to give away that he had been staring. First, he places Jinyoung’s and his drink on the table, soon turning back around to go back and fetch the last drink – Jaebeom’s.

When he comes back, Jaebeom looks up to see a large grin spread across the youngest’s face. He has that look again – the one as if he knows a joke Jaebeom doesn’t.

The latter nodded his head in thanks for getting the drinks as he inspects his green tea on the table. Just as he’s about to pick up the mug, he’s stopped in his tracks by an announcement coming from the coffee bar.

“Hello everyone! Sorry for the interruption, but I’ve been told that we have a birthday here today,” you said. Giving announcements wasn’t your strong suit, but you figured now that you were an actual owner of something, you were going to get over your shyness. But you didn’t think it was going to be that often that a tall, skinny and pale boy with a Rolex on his wrist would be asking you to get your coffee shop to sing happy birthday for his friend. Even when you were a barista working for someone else no one had made such a request. This was a café after all, not an Applebee’s.

Jaebeom wished more than anything that he could sink into his seat and just disappear. If only that cliché that vampires turned into bats were true, then he could just fly away at a moment’s notice. Leave it to Bambam to torture him like this. It wasn’t intentional of course, but it certainly felt like it to Jaebeom.

It was especially tragic to him because the girl he had been studying was the one leading the entire café in singing “Happy Birthday.” He did his best to avoid looking at her, feeling like his entire body was heating up in embarrassment even though he couldn't heat up.

You on the other hand felt a little insulted by the birthday boy’s lack of eye contact. You hadn’t even managed to get a good look at him before you started singing and now it was not possible with the way that he was looking down at the ground, his long hair falling in front of his face, concealing itself to you. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that he felt awkward about a bunch of strangers he had never met singing him happy birthday, you had felt the same whenever your friends tried to ambush you on your birthday… but you at least looked up and acknowledged the presence of the people singing. A tight smile from this guy would even be happily accepted.

When the song is over and the claps that follow finally subside, he looks up to see the café back at its previous state of normalcy, not a single person looking at him anymore. Jaebeom lets out a sigh of relief.

“You could at least act like you liked it,” Bambam huffed in annoyance. He wished Jaebeom could appreciate the idea of birthdays like he did.

“I really didn’t need to be the center of attention today Bam.”

“But it’s your bir-” Bambam begins to explain, but Jaebeom abruptly cuts him off, not wanting to hear his reasoning for today’s antics, yet again. The day hadn’t even started.

“My birthday, I know. Thanks for reminding me.”

Jinyoung clears his throat and plays with the spoon that came with his Flat White. Just as Jaebeom is the mediator for Bambam and Jinyoung, sometimes Jinyoung has to be the mediator for Jaebeom and Bambam. Essentially the commonality in the disagreements of their trio friendship is Bambam and currently, Jinyoung feels as though he should route the conversation elsewhere.

“What else is in the cards for tonight then boys?”

It’s then based on the look on Jaebeom’s face, that Jinyoung thinks that maybe talking about the plans for tonight – on Jaebeom’s birthday – isn’t re-routing the conversation. Especially since it’s Bambam’s whose eyes light up and is the one to reply to him.

“Obviously we’re going out tonight,” Bambam paused and turned to Jaebeom, wagging his finger in the latter’s face, “there’s no way you’re getting out of this. I’m not taking no for an answer this time.”

Jaebeom rolled his eyes and didn’t respond as he knew he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He had rejected Bambam’s invitations to go out consistently for the last 6 months and on his birthday of all days, Bam was going to force him out of the house just as he had done this morning to come to the café.

He looks back to the front counter, his eyes searching for the barista who has now suddenly disappeared. A frown begins to make itself known on his face, feeling a bit disappointed by the fact that she may have left already or gone elsewhere, but soon she’s popping up from behind the counter, no doubt getting something from the cabinets below. Jaebeom feels relief.

“What did you say to her?” he asked suddenly looking back at Bambam.

He cocked his head to the side, confused, “What did I say to who?”

“The barista behind the counter.”

His friend nodded his head slowly, suddenly realizing what Jaebeom means. A smirk appears on his face, “nothing much… Just how it was your birthday and it would be really good if we could all embarrass you by singing about it. She’s not a barista, by the way, she owns the place. Kinda backward thinking there Jae. It’s the 21st century, women can own things now, they can vote.”

“I know that,” Jaebeom hissed.

Bambam puts up his hands in defeat, “I’m just making sure.”

“Don’t you know her?” Jinyoung asked, “isn’t that why we came here?”

Jaebeom’s interests are perked. It’s not often that the three of them meet new people. It’s not like there’s a huge point to it. The last new person the three of them met was Mark – also a vampire – a bartender at their favorite club in the city, but that was in 2007.

He waits for Bambam’s explanation as to how he knows this girl and why they came here specifically beside it just being near Jaebeom’s apartment.

Waving his hand nonchalantly, the Thai boy gives his answer, “I don’t really know her. Minji does. Met her in some kind of class, I think. SoulCycle? Pilates? Zumba? I don’t know. I can’t keep up with her and her activities these days.”

Minji is Bambam’s mate. He had turned her only a month after they met.

Jaebeom’s not sure what he would do if he met his mate. He doesn’t know if he would want to subject them to turning and living the same kind of life as him, but he also doesn’t know if he could continue life alone after meeting his mate. If he ever meets them.

“Why the curiosity?” Jinyoung asked, for once finding it hard to remain stone-faced. Even his usual chill, non-revealing demeanor seems to fade away when it appears that his older friend might be attracted to someone.

Jaebeom simply shrugged, “it’s nothing…”

“What do you think? Could she be the one?” Bambam asked teasingly, pointing to the girl behind the counter.

Jinyoung rolled his eyes almost immediately at the younger boy, “if you’re going to keep bothering him about it, don’t make it so obvious idiot.”

Jaebeom had been alive – or more like undead – for 200 years and more than half of that time he had to listen to this same conversation from his friends over and over again. His patience was wearing thin and 180 years later, he was tired of their pestering.

He leaned forward slowly and grabbed his green tea off the table, making sure to visibly flinch at the heat of the drink, Bambam, and Jinyoung chuckling at his reaction. Out of the three of them, Jaebeom certainly had the most practice when it came to “putting on a show” for the humans and “acting” the most human. Taking a sip, he looked back at the girl behind the counter.

The youngest vampire had spent many of their outings and conversations hypothesizing who Jaebeom’s mate could be. Despite being the oldest of the three, Jaebeom was the only one left who still hadn’t found his mate and he was beginning to feel hopeless. Typically, Bambam pointed out any human girl as a candidate – all of them of course ended up not being his mate. Therefore, Jaebeom didn’t pay attention to his picks anymore, but he had to admit… He did get a strange feeling from the girl behind the counter.

Jaebeom looked to you, hoping to catch your gaze as you quickly made the coffee orders for the few people waiting to the side of the cash register. Just when he was about to give up and focus his attention back on his friends, you tore your concentration away from the drink in your hand and looked up at him from across the cafe.

Jaebeom focused his gaze deep onto you with his eyes – testing, checking, and trialing your focus. You didn’t look away, instead, you trained your eyes deeply into his and stared at him until finally, it was Jaebeom who broke the contact.

He shook his head at his friends, disappointed by your inability to break the trance and ultimately confused at the feeling he still got from you despite that.

Jaebeom took another sip of the tea, “it’s not her.”

“Did you have to debate that Uber driver on the Twilight franchise?” Jinyoung groaned at Bambam as soon as they’re out of the car.

The entire twenty-minute ride, he had got into a heated discussion with their driver on how Twilight was not “true” or realistic to most actual vampire folklore. It had been an excruciating thing to listen to.

“Got to stand up for our kind dude.”

“Okay, but what happens when she starts asking how you know all these things or why you’re so interested in vampire stuff?” Jinyoung tended to always be right. This wasn’t an exception.

Brushing off his pants, Bambam gives him a nonchalant wave, “chill out man. Everyone loves vampire stuff.”

“Maybe in 2008,” Jaebeom said just barely loud enough for his friends to hear them. The two of them laughed, Bambam shoving him playfully on the shoulder, “Birthday boy getting funny on us.”

“I was always funny,” Jaebeom deadpanned.

“Funny and looking good tonight. Let’s get you laid, shall we?”

After a day that was jampacked full of various activities planned by his youngest friend, the last thing Jaebeom wanted to do was spend extra energy on trying to get some girl to come home with him tonight. Besides, he wasn’t that guy anymore.

Jinyoung scoffed, “he doesn’t need to get laid tonight.”

“Yes, he does! Jaebeom how long has it been?”

This time it’s Jinyoung that shoves Bambam’s shoulder – except it’s not all that playful.

“Fine don’t answer that, but I’m just saying there will be quite a few girls here that you can have your pick of, despite your plain outfit.”

Jaebeom looked at the clothes he had changed into when Bambam spared him a sliver of time to go back home to digress and feed his cats. The latter had wanted him to borrow clothes of his, but instead, Jaebeom decided on pulling pieces from his closet that felt more like him, less like Bambam. A plain pair of ripped jeans, an oversized black shirt that he had bought at a shop from his trip to London last year, and his mother’s necklace that often wasn’t missing from its spot around his neck.

Bambam’s earlier critique was that he was dressed too basic and that no girls would bat an eye at him. Girls don’t like plain guys, he had said. The comment makes Jaebeom wonder about you and whether you’d fall under the category of not liking “plain” guys.

He bites the inside of his cheek. It was probably the eighth time he had made himself do it today. Jaebeom had found his mind often drifting to you throughout the day for some unexplainable reason. During their walk in the park, he wondered if you would take strolls during your breaks from the café or when Bambam forced him to go paint pottery for an hour and a half he thought about what you would paint. It frustrated him because he hadn’t even spoken to you – not a word and yet you were clearly on his mind for one reason or another. It wasn’t even like you were his mate. He had tried to see if you were unaffected by his trance, his hypnotic capabilities, but you had just stared at him completely fixated just as everyone else was.

Jaebeom was not going to think about you any longer. He was already planning on avoiding your café.

“We’re on the list,” Bambam tells the bouncer when they arrive at the entrance of the club. He scans the list and motions his head towards the direction of the door to signal to the three of them to go on ahead. There’s a bit of a whine coming from the people waiting in line which admittedly so makes Jaebeom feel a little guilty, but Bambam ensures him it’s fine, “why have a friend who works at a club if we can’t use him for the perks?”

“Why does he keep bartending again?” As soon as the question is out of Jaebeom’s mouth he realizes it was a stupid thing to ask since the answer is apparent.

Bambam laughed at him, giving his long – irreplaceable he’d like to remind everyone – leather coat to the person at the front of the club. Jaebeom swears he hears him tell the coat check guy the “proper” way to put it on a hanger.

“Obviously for the girls Jaebeom.”

Mark’s mate – Hana had passed on a long time ago. Jaebeom had never got the chance to meet her, only hears about her in passing from some stories that Mark has told the three of them. He hadn’t turned her. Jaebeom’s never asked why.

“Girls… of course.”

He can’t help but think about how Mark must feel inside. Although Jaebeom doesn’t know him as well as he knows Bambam and Jinyoung, whenever he’s with the older boy he’s always got a smile on his face. Often quiet, but he’s always got certain energy bouncing off of him that would indeed make him popular with women. However, if what they say about mates is true, would that mean that a piece of Mark was now missing? Did he feel like he was less of a person? Jaebeom felt like that sometimes and he hadn’t even met his mate yet. Mark had his, but now he didn’t.

“Drinks?” Jinyoung asked the two of them and Jaebeom is partly surprised. Out of the three of them, Bambam was the one who was the most comfortable in a club or even bar setting. He figures that Jinyoung must be using his birthday as an excuse to cut loose and become someone else for the night.

Bambam instantly nodded his head at Jinyoung’s suggestion and Jaebeom finds himself trailing behind the two of them as they make their way over to Mark at the bar who is throwing his head back at something the girl across the bar is saying. Judging on Jaebeom’s intuition – it’s a bit fake and overplayed, but you got to do what you got to do.

“My man!” Bambam yelled over the music, leaning against the counter in a way to make sure he doesn’t get the elbows of his long sleeve turtleneck wet. Mark in response, turned to them and smiled, then routing his attention back to the girl, giving her an apologetic smile. Her half-smile says everything Jaebeom could need to know – this girl would not be going home with Mark after his shift tonight.

“What can I get you guys tonight,” Mark turned to Jaebeom and the latter can barely make out his sharp canines in the dark club, “birthday boy you want anything special?”

Before Jaebeom can reply that he wants to be at home, Bambam answers for him.

“Could we maybe get something that’s off the menu?” He wiggled his eyebrows at Mark who gave him a shit-eating grin, knowing immediately what he was talking about.

“Off the menu” meant Mark’s secret stash of O negative underneath the counter. While alcohol had the same effect on them that it had on the average humans, adding a bit of blood just made a little bit better. Okay… it made it a lot better.

“Three negronis coming right up,” Mark winked to give a little signal that these would most likely not be as well composed or put together as a negroni, but due to them being in public, he couldn’t necessarily announce a shit ton of alcohol mixed with human blood was going to be served up to them.

“How has your birthday been Jae?” Mark asked as he was in the middle of placing three glasses onto the countertop in between them.

It was difficult to explain since to Jaebeom it had just been another day except for a little bit more excruciating. The celebration of another year “older” filled him with thoughts of how much time has passed, whether he’s done anything truly important and why he still hasn’t found the person who is meant to complete him… but like he said only a little more excruciating than any other day.

Jaebeom shrugged in response, “Bam planned a lot and for the most part, it was…” he paused for a moment, wondering if he should say how he felt – numb, lost, and wishing the day would come to an end as if tomorrow won’t bring the same thoughts or problems. But as he looked at his friends who had tried so hard today to make him happy and celebrate, he decided to guard them against the ultimate truth, “for the most part it was fun – really good. I mean besides the singing at the café of course.” He throws in the last part to at least have some kind of believability to his story.

He notices Mark’s eyebrows lift out of curiosity as his concentration focuses on measuring out each part of the drinks, “An entire café sang you happy birthday? Damn, I don’t think I could ever get through that, so I can only imagine how you feel.”

“That was Bam’s idea,” Jinyoung muttered.

Once again, Bambam does his nonchalant waving of the hand, “it wasn’t that bad. I mean okay, maybe it was… But Jaebeom was obsessed with the girl who led it.”

Jaebeom suddenly feels like he wants to put duct tape over his friend’s mouth.

“I was not obsessed with her! I don’t even know her!” Jaebeom for some reason felt the need to defend himself, which was probably the worst option. Him getting defensive was usually a tell-tale sign for his friends being right on whatever they were confronting him with.

Bambam scoffed, bringing gliding his drink across the bar to be directly in front of him once Mark has poured it neatly into the short glass, “I noticed you staring at her before I went to get the drinks. That’s why I asked her to do it in the first place.”

“So, she doesn’t know Minji?” Jinyoung questioned.

The youngest takes his first sip and immediately lets out a hissing noise, signaling to Mark that it’s both strong and good. “No, she does, but Jaebeom’s weird staring only made it that much better.”

Mark pushed the other two glasses towards Jinyoung and Jaebeom, “Was she your…” he drifted off, almost as though he was finding it physically difficult to get the word out. Jaebeom can’t help but feel the want to reach his hand out towards Mark and place it comfortingly on his shoulder, but his group of friends don’t do that. Instead, he saves him the trouble by answering back right away, not forcing him to say it.

“No, she wasn’t.”

The bartender nodded slowly, suddenly avoiding his gaze from the three familiar boys across the bar from him, “That’s uh… too bad that she wasn’t able to break the trance. Sorry, Jaebeom.”

He knows that Mark is just trying to be nice, especially when they’re on a subject that he clearly can’t and doesn’t want to talk about, but the attempt to be comforting makes Jaebeom nauseous.

“Well maybe he’ll find her here tonight,” Jinyoung quipped, placing a hand on Jaebeom’s back. Sometimes the latter swore that his friends treated him he had just found out he had a terminal illness.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Jaebeom commented gruffly.

There’s a sound from the other side of the bar from a customer who seems fed up with the conversation being had between the four of them – distracting Mark from serving anyone else. He gives a signal to them to notify them that he’ll be there in a second. “Well… come to me if you guys need more drinks. It’s on me tonight.”

“Thanks, man,” Jaebeom tells him honestly because he might need a couple more drinks before he gets to the state of wanting to be in this room.

Mark said a final word of “see you guys later” and heads to the other end of the bar to help customers who have been waiting. Grabbing their drinks, Jaebeom, Jinyoung, and Bambam turn around to depart the bar, to find somewhere to sit for a bit before the drinks truly begin to hit them.

With his drink in hand, Jaebeom took a sip and reveled in the perfect balance of alcohol to burn his throat and blood to soothe it. The drink was probably the most relaxing part of his day thus far and as he looked out at the crowd, he could already tell that maybe the mixture was going to his head due to his sudden thinking that this place wasn’t all that bad.

Despite not being a club guy, if he were to go out, Jaebeom would always choose this club that Mark works out. To put it simply – it was vampire friendly. With Mark behind the counter and his “secret” supply free-flowing, it became a notoriously known place for vampires in town. If he had to guess, the attendance on an average night was probably evenly split 50/50, humans and vampires.

The humans weren’t aware of the vampires of course – for the most part.

Jaebeom cleared his throat once they’ve found a booth to sit in, “so… Bam what do you know about that girl?”

Both Jinyoung and Bambam exchange glances before looking back at the birthday boy. The latter tried his best to conceal the smile on his face, “not much… just that she owns the café, knows Minji, and is very single.”

For some reason, Jaebeom’s stomach does a little flip, but he wishes it wouldn’t. “S-So?” Through his stutter, he tries to remain as confident as possible, but his friends see right through his façade.

Jinyoung leaned forward until his elbows rest on the top of his thighs, “Jaebeom you can be honest with us… Why the sudden fascination with this girl? Are you sure she didn’t break the trance? Just with the way that you’re acting…” Jinyoung drifted off, not bothering to finish his final sentence, but once again looking at Bambam. It makes Jaebeom lean forward in his seat as well.

“With the way, I’m acting? I’m completely normal. I’m fine. She didn’t break the trance and now I’m just curious about her as curious as anyone would be about someone they meet.”

There’s the silence between the three of them until Bambam speaks up, “You didn’t meet her though.”

It dawns on Jaebeom that he didn’t even speak to you and he wonders why does it feel like he did. Why did it feel like he knew you but didn’t at the same time? Why haven’t his mind and body been cooperating with him since this morning at the café?

Just with the way that you’re acting…

The way he was acting? What did that mean? Was the way he was acting mean something specific?

He feels like he blinks and thirty minutes go by. And in that past thirty minutes, Jaebeom had somehow managed to drink 6 of Mark’s “negronis.” He felt like his head was beginning to get dizzy. It wasn’t often that Jaebeom found himself drunk on the verge of drunkenness due to alcohol not affecting him as much as humans. To even remotely get to that state, he had to drink a lot and it had to be strong.

“You feeling it Jaebeom?” Through the darkness and the haze of the alcohol, Jaebeom could barely make out the hint of the smile playing on Jinyoung’s face. He had switched to a glass of wine at some point while Jaebeom was binge drinking which had to be the most Jinyoung thing ever. Who drinks a glass of wine in a dark, sweaty club?

He’s afraid to answer him verbally which would give his friend an obvious sign of how he was feeling. So instead he just shrugged – as usual.

“Dude let’s get out there!” The youngest shouted, motioning his hands to the middle of the club, “dance… maybe find you a girl?”

Jaebeom watched the people pressing up against each other on the dancefloor, moving their bodies, and drinking like their lives depended on it. He wondered if he wanted to be a part of that. Everyone out there was so full of life and vigor… he just wasn’t. He also didn’t know if he was that drunk, but bless Bambam because he didn’t need alcohol to be out there.

For what feels like the millionth time, his mind drifted to you. Was this your kind of place? Would you come here? If you did would you come alone? With friends? Someone else? You didn’t seem like the type of person who would like this place. You seemed more like him – the observant, calm, inquisitive type who would much rather be at home with a book than at a party.

Then for a moment, he can picture it. It’s almost like he’s in a trance – an image of you curled up on a couch – his couch – under a large white cable knit blanket fills his mind. Rather than reading, your painting with watercolors – the kind that seems to be in every elementary school classroom – and he hears a voice out of view. His voice.

“Painting really?”

Jaebeom sees you glance up from your painting to look at him, smiling.

“Looks like I’m gonna have a lot of time on my hands so… might as well get good at something.”

Jaebeom hears himself laugh,��“Okay but watercolors?”

He feels like he’s going to pass out when he finally hears it – your laugh.

“Let the artist work Im Jaebeom! She needs to get good enough to live off auction house money once her paintings get sold! Shh!” Despite your words, you smiled and suddenly moved the tools away from you onto the coffee table. You lifted half the blanket off of you and patted the space of the couch beside you, “you know I can’t say no when you give me that face. Come here.”

And just like that, the vision is gone. Jaebeom feels confused because it didn’t feel like a dream or fantasy, but it felt real… it felt like a memory.

“Hello, Earth to Jaebeom?”

Right… dancing. Maybe dancing would help him forget whatever game his mind was playing on him.

“Yeah let’s fucking go.”

Another instance occurs where Jaebeom blinks and everything moves so fast. Suddenly he’s no longer sat at the table with Bambam and Jinyoung, but instead in the middle of that mess on the dancefloor with everyone else. He almost feels like one of them. He almost feels human again. But as soon as that feeling washes over him, it quickly dissipates.

He knows it must be the drinks doing all the work, because otherwise, he would have never found himself in the middle of all these people, thinking that dancing is a good idea. Dancing had never done anything remotely good for him before, so why now? To help forget? Was it going to help him do that?

“I swear it’s like he’s not even here.”

Jaebeom tuned back into the moment, and it’s when he realizes that Jinyoung and Bambam have been trying to get his attention this entire time.

“Sorry I was just- the alcohol you know…” He says it so quietly that he knows his friends won’t be able to hear him over the music and the millions of conversations happening around them. But he thinks that maybe it’s better that way and that it truly doesn’t matter what he says.

Jinyoung comes closer to Jaebeom, until his mouth is right next to his ear, “we were just asking if there’s anyone that you’re interested in.”

They’re still on this idea? Jaebeom asked himself.

Even in his drunken state, he didn’t think that finding some random girl to fuck was going to help with the emptiness he’s been feeling lately, but for the first time since getting up and onto the dance floor he takes in the people around him. As depressing as it was to observe, most people were here with someone else.

It’s then his gaze falls onto a couple that stands far on the left side of the floor, behind where Jinyoung is standing. The two of them have their fronts pressed up against each other, dancing so closely with arms exploring one another’s bodies. The female has her head resting on the male’s shoulder as if she’s too exhausted to keep going, but can’t dare to part with him. It’s like they’re part of each other and any distance would cause them to lose all sense of themselves.

The girl lifts her head off the male’s shoulder and gives him this look that makes Jaebeom’s heart – if it was still beating – ache. She says something to him and he nodded happily in response. Even through the dim lights and large crowd, Jaebeom could see the sharp teeth inside her mouth.

She placed her head back against his shoulder, this time, however, the male had his head angled back, stretching out his neck. The girl moves in closer until her mouth just ghosts over the skin, breathing on it until the boy shuts his eyes awaiting the sting and pleasure that will come next.

Biting down against his flesh, breaking skin, the girl drinks from her partner. Even though he’s at a distance from them, Jaebeom can tell by the look on the man’s face that he’s enjoying being fed on and that it certainly isn’t his first time.

He feels like his eyes are frozen on the couple. It’s been so long since he fed off someone instead of the stuff that he gets from his connection at the hospital. Jaebeom tries not to think about the way his fingertips tingle and his throat dries up at the thought of drinking from a warm body. The alcohol has only dehydrated him and made him feel even more thirsty – he’s afraid that going back to the bar and asking Mark for a glass of O negative exclusively isn’t going to make that go away.

After a moment or two, the girl removes her mouth from the boy’s neck and drags her tongue over the spot where she had drawn blood from, ultimately covering the wound and signaling that she was done drinking.

He thinks of how risky it is to do that at a place like this. Although half of the people around them also take part in the activity of drinking blooding and granted most of them aren’t paying attention to those around them – there are still unsuspecting humans everywhere. If one wrong person were to see then that could be it for this club being a haven for the vampire community in the city and that would probably be… it for vampires in this city in general.

But who was he kidding? He was being a hypocrite because he’s for sure done the same thing.

You’ve once again entered his mind. However, this time it isn’t an image, picture, or vision that occupies his thoughts, but instead just the idea of how you would react to who he is, what he really is. Throughout his time that he’s been undead he’s only done the “reveal” to a handful of people and even then, it took him a long time to get there. Well except for one person who ultimately was a mistake and his friends hadn’t hesitated to let him know.

With you, Jaebeom felt that you wouldn’t be the kind of person to judge him instantly based on what he was. You would be shocked of course, maybe even scared, but you wouldn’t let that cloud your judgment. You wouldn’t let yourself reject something just because it was unfamiliar.

What the fuck was he on about?

It must be the alcohol doing this to him. He would have to thank Mark for making them strong this time around, but also make a mental note to never let this happen again. Jaebeom was already a deeper thinker, but this was getting out of hand.

There’s a sudden grasp of Jaebeom’s elbow and he feels himself jump at the sudden touch. His eyebrows furrowed when he realized it wasn’t one of his friends considering Bambam and Jinyoung were both dancing over to his right side.

When he turned around to greet the person who had grabbed him, he was disappointed, surprised, and annoyed all in one. It was the last person he had expected to see her, except not really because it made perfect sense.

“Jaebeom… hi.” Ara smiled shyly at him, tucking a string of hair behind her ear and slightly looking down at the ground. He wants to groan because he knows she’s doing this because he had once mentioned that he thought it was hot when she looked innocent. He shouldn’t have ever said that.

He’s not sure what to say, because what are you supposed to say to someone you’ve been trying to avoid for the past year and a half? Jaebeom had said everything he had wanted to say to her.

At one point in his life, he had been stupid. He had been stupid and he had abused the power that had been bestowed upon him since the day he had been turned. Perhaps one would assume that he’d been foolish with his ability just at the start – 100, maybe even 150 years ago. Instead, Jaebeom had gone through a rough patch about a year or two ago.

The overwhelming pressure of finding his mate had started to get to him again. All he needed was someone, anyone to break the hypnotic trance and that was it. A task that seemed so simple, yet never came. So, Jaebeom had used hypnotism to his advantage, getting as many girls as he could in his bed in the shortest amount of time possible. He wasn’t proud of it and it was something he would constantly regret as long as he was ali- around.

One of those girls… had been Ara.

Jaebeom felt relieved when she didn’t wait for him to answer back at her greeting, “How are you? I-It’s your birthday, right? How old are you turning again? 27?” She winked immediately after her question and he wants to roll his eyes.

She was the mistake by the way. The mistake that knew about who he was.

He doesn’t even remember how it happened, how his secret slipped, or what the circumstances of her finding out was. Part of him thinks he was just horny, thirsty, and weak, but she found out and she… loved it.

Weirdly enough, Ara loved the idea of him being a vampire and his “lifestyle” which at first Jaebeom didn’t think too much about. He thought okay she’s taking this extremely well… better than anyone else I’ve ever told, but whatever, but then it became strange.

She was what those in the vampire community call a “vampire fetishizer.”

He coughed awkwardly, his gaze wandering over to Jinyoung and Bambam, hoping they would catch sight of him stuck with Ara and come rescue him. Jaebeom wasn’t that lucky though, not even on his birthday, “Yeah… 27.”

Jaebeom can’t help but look at her neck. It’s fully on display and it was clear that Ara had come here to find someone to feed on her. He had been the one to show Ara this place before he had been clued into her little… vampire obsession.

“Well did the birthday boy get everything he wants today?” She smiled and gave Jaebeom those eyes. He feels his cock twitch in his pants and he realizes he has to keep himself in check because he’s not that weak tonight… right?

His eyes flash to her neck again and Jaebeom feels his throat get even drier. He was so thirsty and he knows Ara would be so willing.

No Jaebeom… No.

“I-I uh yeah… you know got- yeah today’s been good,” he stuttered awkwardly, bringing his tongue out to wet his dry lips. Judging on the look on Ara’s face, she’s taken the action the wrong way.

“You look thirsty Jaebeom… do you want a drink?”

He knows what she means and Jaebeom swallows hard in an attempt to distract himself, to remind himself that he’s not that thirsty. He doesn’t need it that bad.

“I-I think I am.”

The words come out faster than his brain can process to stop them and the part of Jaebeom that’s coherent, sharp, and aware wants to punch the weak and drunk Jaebeom in the face.

Without a word, Ara turned from Jaebeom and began walking to one of the exits at the side of the club. He feels like he’s the one in a trance, mindlessly following her through the people, not even hearing Jinyoung and Bambam calling out to him. The only thing that Jaebeom makes note of as he follows her is Mark’s face behind the bar, giving him a tight smile. It almost stops Jaebeom. Almost.

When they finally get outside through the exit door, they find themselves in a small alley between the club and a dry cleaner.

Jaebeom doesn’t even get a moment to think before Ara is pushing him against the wall of the dry cleaner, her hands roaming up and down his body, her lips going to his own. They’re pressed up against each other so closely that he recalls the couple he had watched earlier. He feels sick comparing this moment now to the two of them.

“Fuck I missed you so much,” Ara sighed seductively into this ear, making Jaebeom’s stomach churn further at her clear longing for him. Well not him, but the vampire part of him.

“Please, I need it,” she mewled. At her words, he almost puts a stop to this whole thing and has to question whether this is the right thing to do. Jaebeom wonders if this is old Jaebeom behavior – the one that just used women and threw them away later like toys, but then he remembers that this is Ara. She’s using him as well.

It’s almost as though that old, cocky, snide Jaebeom appears out of nowhere as he says his next words and brings himself closer to her neck, “do you really need it?”

“Yes, Jaebeom I do, please.” Ara already sounds so desperate and he’s barely done anything. He can’t help but smirk at her reaction.

“Then I guess I better give it to you then.”

He’s about to do it. He’s about to bite down and finally relieve his thirst, his craving, but then he looks to the side of the alley – towards the street. He feels like he’s seeing things again like he’s in the middle of a hallucination or mirage. That thought is pushed away when he locks eyes with you.

“Don’t mind me,” you placed your hands up in front of yourself, to show him you’re not eavesdropping. Your action frustrated you because it would have been much better to say nothing, but you felt yourself panic. The prolonged eye contact with him while he’s just seconds away from pressing down – bitting down? – on the girl’s next for some reason pushed you into defensive mode. Not to mention his eyes… his eyes were – red?

The girl hadn’t noticed you; you aren’t even sure if she heard you, but she certainly noticed Jaebeom’s stare fixated on you. When she faces you, she wears an unpleasant sneer, clearly annoyed by your interruption of whatever this was.

“Can you go?” She said, the agitation in her voice more than apparent.

Rather than immediately leave the scene, you continued to stare at Jaebeom. It’s difficult to say why you decided to walk this specific way home despite it being so late and dark out, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be pulled in this direction. You weren’t someone who believed in signs or fate, but it felt so wrong to go any other way tonight. That was another thing, you felt this kink in your neck that practically forced you or taunted you into looking down the alley between this dry cleaners and club. It was yet another thing about today that felt unexplainable to you as you certainly weren’t expecting the birthday boy from the café today to be in a compromising position with some girl.

After a moment of more uncomfortable staring – something else that had happened at the café today with him – Jaebeom breaks your gaze and looks down at his feet. The eye roll and acrid look on the girl’s face don’t go unnoticed by you.

You shouldn’t be here.

“S-Sorry. I’ll just get going then,” you concluded, unsure why you felt an uncomfortable sickness spread throughout the entirety of your body.

You barely knew this guy – all you really knew was that today was his birthday and that he was friends with Minji’s boyfriend. Basically nothing. Yet now and even earlier back at the café you had felt this weird sensation within yourself. Not even when you looked at him, but just being in the same presence. It had been so hard to focus on making coffee today when he was seated across the room. Every part of your body just wanted to get closer, gravitate towards him. It was fucking weird… and scary.

The girl nodded as if to signal “yeah about time,” at the announcement of your departure. Jaebeom on the other hand, still had his eyes glued to the ground as if looking at you once again will cause him some kind of pain.

Just as you’re about to continue your trip back home, you stop yourself and look back at the couple in the alley.

“Happy birthday by the way…” you paused wondering if it would be weird to say his name considering he doesn’t even know yours, but you shove the thought out of your mind, “Jaebeom…”

Hearing you say his name causes that tingling feeling in his fingertips to come back and his entire mind is sent into a frenzy. He feels too awkward, too shy to look at you again, but a sudden thought washed over him. What if earlier was a mistake? What if you are his mate? With the way he was currently feeling just at you saying his name, the visions he had in the club and the nonstop place you know had in his mind, it was difficult to believe that you weren’t his mate.

Bambam and Jinyoung had found it difficult to explain to him what it felt like to find your mate, but surely what he felt right now wasn’t normal behavior or feelings. Unless he was a psychopath.

Tightly shutting his eyes and drawing together all his strength, Jaebeom aims to try once again to see if you can break the hypnotic trance, unaffected by his abilities. However, as soon as he’s finally ready, head turned up to face you – you’re gone. You didn’t wait for him to respond to the happy birthday message. Instead, you simply left not wanting to be a burden or troublesome to whatever it was those two were doing in that alley.

“Thank fucking god, let’s get back to it,” Ara concluded with a final roll of her eyes, gripping Jaebeom’s shoulders to get him close to her once again. He stares at her neck, but this time he doesn’t feel anything. He no longer feels thirsty and his appetite is gone.

Jaebeom shrugs her off slightly. The encounter with you has caused him to wake up and realize what a bad idea it would be to do this right now. He hopes that Ara won’t put up a fight – he doesn’t want to have to hypnotize her if he doesn’t need to.

At his actions, Ara takes a step away in disbelief, as if she actually can’t believe that Jaebeom is changing his mind and no longer wants her, “are you serious?”

He doesn’t say anything but instead avoids eye contact with her just as he had done for you.

Snorting, she glared at him, “Fine. Whatever. I don’t fucking care. I can find someone else to feed off of me. Yours never felt that good anyway. Asshole.”

Just like that, she’s out of his life once again and Jaebeom can’t help but feel thankful. He should have never been weak enough to be dragged out by here anyway. He had just been consumed by thoughts of you, alcohol, and the couple on the dancefloor. Then again, not coming out here would have robbed him of the opportunity of seeing you again and finding out that you actually knew his name.

That’s when it dawned on him.

Fuck… how much had you seen? What did you see?

Jaebeom realized that he might have some explaining to do

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #im jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom fanfic #jaebeom smut

201 notes · View notes

lunarliza · 5 years ago

Text

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 1: Popsicles

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

note: so this is my second JJ fic! I’m so excited for ya’ll to read it. it’ll be more light-hearted and shorter than DLS :)

“Come on... come on! This one right here let’s go!” you yelped. The crowd behind you was practically chattering on their fingernails.

The seven year old boy in the water paddled as hard as his lanky arms could take him towards the daunting wave.

“Now Gavin now! Stand up!” you shrieked as the boy hurriedly went through your instructed steps, tucking his knee, and thrusting upwards as the wave got close. Then, before he even realized, he glided rigidly along the wave as the board carried him across the water.

“Hooray! Awesome job Gavin!” The flock cheered and rushed to pat the boy on the back, his dad lifting him up in his arms.

The child scuttled towards you and threw his arms around your neck. You chuckled delightedly. “Alright everyone! That’s it for our surf lesson today. Be sure to check out the gift shop on your way out!”

You waved bye to the guests as they made way to return their boards to the hut, some handing you rolled up cash, with thankful smiles.

Once the coast was clear, you jogged back to the hut only to find Sophia, your best friend and lazy co-worker, lounging with her legs stretched on the checkout counter of the tiny surf shack. She hung a lollipop in her mouth while her eyes glued to her phone screen.

“You know, when you asked me to find you a job, I actually thought you meant one where you actually work.”

Sophia popped out the sucker and threw you a glare. “I did work! See!” she pointed her hand at the sign hanging beside the door that read ‘OBX Surf and Sports’, “I put that sign up this morning.”

“It’s crooked.”

“Bleh, bleh, bleh,” she mocked, “Nothing I ever do is good enough.” You chuckled and shook your head at her.

You peered out the giant window at the front of the store, surveying the empty beach. This was going to be the rest of your summer. At sixteen years old, you were one of the Outer Banks’ surfing all-stars and spent your days working as an instructor for the second year in a row.

Customers loved you and your ability to work with all ages rendering you the title of ‘Top Instructor’ at the shack- which didn’t mean much seeing as 90% of the employees were amateur teenagers.

Nevertheless, you were determined to keep that title, as whoever brought in the most satisfied customers by the end of the summer wins a $5,000 scholarship. And you needed that money bad in order to attend your dream school: UVA.

Along the beach, you caught a glimpse of your competition, Cody, and instinctly groaned.

On any other occasion, you really didn’t care about what people did with their lives, but something about your arrogant, sleazy, five-foot-seven co-worker grinded your gears.

He was always man-splaining to you and the other girls at the shack or kissing ass to your boss. And you knew well he was after the scholarship too- your scholarship.

“Look at him,” you sneered to Sophia as she joined you at the window to death-glare the boy. He was prepping his group on the sand for their session and looked absolutely despicable in his shorts that were inches away from exposing his little one. Emphasis on the little.

“Ugh, he’s making them do jumping jacks again,” Sophia pointed out, crinkling her nose, “God that poor old lady. Can he be any more extra?”

“I need to look away, I think I might vomit if he ever flashed me.”

Your best friend snickered at your hatred as you waxed down your board for your next lesson. “Did the group of girls check in yet?” you asked.

“Yeah, they’re sitting and waiting at Eye Sickles,” she informed, referring to the popsicle food-truck next door. “I can’t believe they really signed up for the month-long surfing program. I didn’t know people actually paid for that.”

“You’d be surprised. These tourists will buy into anything, trust me,” you said before heading out the door.

You walked up to three tourist girls lounging on the fold-out tables and chairs at the food-truck. They were mindlessly typing away on their phones, looking as bored as ever.

“Alright, do I have Annalise, Maia, and Arabella?” you announced with your work-smile on. They peered up from their phones and nodded with blank faces.

“Awesome,” you continued, trying to maintain your enthusiasm, “I’m y/n, I’ll be your instructor! I see you guys signed up for the month-long pro-boarding program which is great. Have you guys ever surfed before?”

“Nope,” a blonde girl replied, “Our parents found this online and said it’d be good for us to learn while we’re here. We’re from Richmond, Virginia.”

“Oh cool!” you jeered, the fake zeal was oozing at that point. “Well, I’m happy to be spending the summer with you guys. I’m going to have you guys grab a board and we’ll head down to the sand to go over the basic motions.”

The trio followed you into the hut and picked out a board from the beginners section. You noticed the blonde one giggling with Sophia at the stand for a bit before joining you on the sand. She had a leader-like quality to her while the two other remained quiet but friendly.

“Alright so, just for formalities, who’s who? That way I can identify you better,” you asked as the girls situated their boards along the shore.

Not shockingly, the blonde extended her hand to you first. “I’m Annalise,” she greeted a little sullenly. You shrugged off her attitude, attributing it to her being a bougie tourist.

“I’m Maia,” a tall, jet-black haired girl said next. She had a very athletic body and came off as the quietest one of the group.

“And I’m Arabella,” the last one chimed in. Her hair was a fiery orange and she had piercings run along her ears and nose.

“Alright cool! So now, we’ll start off with the movements you’ll go through once you hit the water. You want to start off flat on your stomach and paddle towards the waves. Make sure you have full control of your board at all times,” you began as the girls copied your demonstration on their own boards.

You heard sniffles come from the group, but ignored it to continue your spiel. You could hardly read any of their expressions through their giant, bug-eyed sunglasses.

Just as you were about to explain the importance of balance- you favorite part of the lesson- you saw the blonde sit up on her board in irritation and start sobbing through her glasses.

“Annalise come on, it’s not worth it,” the tall one, Maia, reasoned as the Annalise shook her head furiously.

“I can’t do this right now,” she cried before bolting back towards the shack.

You watched her in utter confusion. “Was it something I said?” you asked the remaining two.

The orange one shook her head and gave you a sincere look through her glasses. “No, she’s just really upset about this guy,” she turned to her friend, “Come on, let’s go check on her.”

At that point, you had no choice but to follow the group towards their distressed friend. This was definitely coming out of their session time.

The three of you plowed up the sand to find the girl, Annalise, sprawled on Sophia’s shoulder at the tables as she cooed her like a baby. You wanted to cringe.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. He’s a piece of shit anyways! Trust me, he did the same to me too,” your best friend comforted and petted the stranger’s yellow hair.

“What’s going on?” you questioned at the scene. Sophia glanced up at you with a pleading look.

“It’s JJ.”

Oh brother. This dude again. JJ Maybank was the Outer Bank’s most infamous fuck boy. Him and his friends threw parties all the time at the Boneyard- ones you have yet to attend- and he effortlessly earned his reputation by sleeping with any girl he could get his grubby hands on.

By this point, he’s broken half the hearts on the island with girls moaning and groaning about him left and right- Sophia included. You remembered her wailing the day he ghosted her after they did the nasty. It wasn’t a pretty day... or week for the matter.

You didn’t understand what the big deal was with the guy. You’d gone to school with him since the first grade and he’d always been that guy that rolls in the mud during playtime in elementary school. And he still was that guy to this day.

You heard all the cringey lines he’d pull on girls at school that would get them swooning and you swore he was running a voodoo business because no one in their right mind could fall for that.

But everyone did. Except for you.

“What? Did he ghost you too?” you gestured towards the wrecked weeping girl.

She nodded and blew her boogers into the tissues Sophia brought out.

“I-I, well, we met him at a party this weekend and he took me to this little hideout on the beach. He told me that he never met anyone like me before and said all this other shit. Then we had sex there, which I never do in public, and he said he couldn’t wait to see me again. And he never called me after!”

Though you thought her public display was a little too... public, you did feel sorry for her. The guy was a tool, and these tourist girls, especially, didn’t know any better.

“Don’t worry,” Sophia assured, resting a hand atop hers, “he did it to me and everyone at school. We all fell for the trap.”

Maia and Arabella joined the sitting girls in a piled group hug as the ones in the center sputtered in tears together. You couldn’t bear to watch, but for Sophia, you awkwardly joined in anyways.

The rest of the surfing session consisted of the girls pulling up their own chairs and bad-mouthing JJ, along with all other men, as everyone licked their popsicles.

You sucked on your mango one, not minding the little break as it was the easiest $150 you ever made. The girls weren’t as hoity-toity as you first thought. They apologized for wasting your time and promised to leave five-star reviews about you. Even better.

As evening rolled in, you found yourself laughing and joking around with your new-found friends. They told you wild stories of their private school shenanigans back in Richmond while you and Sophia filled them in on life at the OBX.

“This day was incredible,” Annalise beamed, dazed after her fourth popsicle. “Can’t believe we all bonded like this over a guy,” she chuckled, “I just... gah, I wish we could get him back somehow. Make him feel how we feel!”

“You should,” you agreed, “Why don’t one of you guys go to the parties and try to seduce him and then leave him hanging? The trick with men is to withhold sex from them and they’ll be helpless.”

Everyone’s face lit up in excitement at your idea. “No, totally! We could definitely do that!” Sophia exclaimed with wide eyes. “So who will it be? Who’s our hamster?”

“Not me,” Maia objected almost instantly, “I have a boyfriend back home so no seducing will be done on my part.”

“Arabella then,” Annalise suggested, nudging the girl beside her.

“Alright...” she agreed, fiddling with the string of her bathing suit, “I guess I could take one for the team.”

“There we go!” you cheered, “You just march straight into that party, grind on him a bit to leave him hanging, then proceed to embarrass the shit out of him! Problem solved!”

-----------------------------

note: do not worry! more drama to come

chapter 2

#outerbanks #outer banks #outer banks imagine #rafe outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #john b obx #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx #jj obx #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n

597 notes · View notes

icarusfallsforwalls · 4 years ago

Note

tbh... people would rather discuss his name than have to have more painful discussions about the role they and their faves have played in the racism he faced, lbr. a LOT of 1d fans have done racist things over the years. some of them blatantly openly racist (the ones holding terrorist signs, throwing things at him, etc) but a lot more have been passively racist (pushing ugly narratives, having double standards, believing unsourced tabloid nonsense about him that they'd instantly question about the others, the whole "he's so mysterious~ and brooding~" shit, etc).

we've ALL done it at some point, as much as it hurts to admit. i'm a woc and zayn has always been my #1, but even i'm guilty of holding him to different standards than the whites. it's a societal thing. we've all been raised in a racist world and we've all internalised certain messages, even those of us who are literally asian sjfhsjf.

it's like women claiming they shave their legs because they "want to". we all know that's nonsense and we do it because if we go outside hairy we'll be ridiculed and considered lazy and disgusting, but none of us like to admit we've crumbled to societal misogyny. "i just like having smooth legs!" we say, even thought we are all aware that when we're home alone and won't be seen, we never shave or do our makeup or anything. racism works the same - it infiltrates every aspect of life and all our interactions and none of us have escaped its web of deceit.

i mean, hell, how many of us have gone "omg i'd love a 1d reunion" or "i wish zouis would talk again" or whatever? i would NEVER talk to any of my white ex-colleagues who had stayed silent while i was being racially abused en masse, and yet, despite that fact, i still expect zayn to put himself through it just because i like louis. even if the individual 1d boys weren't the issue (zayn has the bus1 tattoo for a reason - clearly louis was his friend and not just a colleague), having to put himself back into 1d territory would undoubtedly stir up a lot of traumatic memories of things and people who WERE racist.

and we all know that! we're not stupid! we are 100% aware of the trauma he faced in that band, both from the fandom and the management and the media. and yet we still expect him to package it all up into a neat little box, tie a bow around it, and hand it to us like a gift. even those of us who are poc, who have similar trauma, who KNOW who awful that would be to go through. it's so insidious! we're all guilty!

and i think a lot of fans are stuck in a very childish mindset where you are either a good person or you are a big scary racist. (to be cringey and quote sirius black: "the world isn't divided into good people and death eaters, harry"). but that isn't how it works. no one is perfect and pure. no one has escaped the societal pressure of racism. it isn't a moral failing to put your hands up and go "damn, i'm part of the problem, i'll try and do better in future". like, that's literally all it would take! no one is expecting white fans to start whipping themselves in repentance!!! but a lot of these fans are struggling with that, clearly lol. they'd rather hyperfocus on one little line of cathartic and pretend it's a big deal, cus it's easier to talk about "zayn vs zain" or whatever than it is for them to analyse their own behaviour. but, like, their refusal to discuss the part they've played in the fandom's racism is literally just reinforcing the issue!! this is what zayn meant when he was said nobody is listening!

sfjsfhs sorry i've written you such an huge essay lmaooo. might set it to a cool beat and drop it on soundcloud, @zayn hit me up boy!!! sjfhsfjs

Oh my gosh, this was such a great read. Thank you for sending this to me! And quoting Sirius Black! And your joke at the end; this is iconic. You also touch on some very real and important points.

I have always felt so deeply for and sympathized with these issues, but I could never truly understand because while I am white and hispanic, I am white-passing and have white privilege. I hate evil and discrimination and racism, but I'm also sure I have at times contributed to it, even unintentionally. As you said, it is deeply engrained into our society, our entertainment, our jobs, our conversations, our jokes, our lives, our thoughts, our homes. It is in fandom too and I've always noticed a different tone (mainly when I'm on twitter) when people speak about Zayn. They cut him no slack. They question his motives. He is always judged so harshly. His music and lyrics are often ignored. And the Zouis breakup is usually always placed on his shoulders, even though we don't know the actual truth of what happened between the two. I've been thinking about this the last couple of days and even more so after listening to Cathartic. Zayn Malik is a grown ass man. A POC who was mistreated and discriminated against while in One Direction and still. He knows his trauma and is allowed to do what is best for him (Calamity). I wish Louis and Zayn would publicly be friends again, that is no secret, but it's not necessarily fair of me to put that on their shoulders because it has more to do with me than what is best for them. I still love and always will love Zouis, but it's in the past and that's how I'll celebrate it from now on because I do think they cared for each other very much.

@anon thank you so much for sharing this perspective. It’s always welcome and appreciated.

#what shall we discuss #zouis #zayn

23 notes · View notes

jacepens · 3 years ago

Note

1: HamilTurn(you can differentiate if needed) or MCU, 2: Washette, 3: Anna Strong

And generally a fandom list would be nice to know what to pick from ;) (Love you♡)

You said HamilTurn or MCU and I say both, I'm going to try my best haha. But anyway, thank you!:) Apologies in advance if this gets rambly, but that's the point of this right? Anyway, for ease of scrolling sake, I'll probably put a cut if this gets long but don't worry, it's just me talking a whole bunch lol. Ok, thank you again!! <3 (love you too!)

1. Hamilton/Turn (fandom)

Favorite character: I have to say Lafayette for both. Oh and Mary

Least favorite character: I have no real reason behind this so sorry but Burr, and Simcoe for many reasons

5 favorite ships: washette, lams, hamliza, benwash, whamilton

Character I find most attractive: ...all. But I have to say overall Brian Wiles as Lafayette. That face just…🥺

Character I would marry: Mary Woodhull or Eliza

Character I would be best friends with: you know I'm not sure, but in an ideal world Lafayette (both versions) or Ben but I feel like we wouldn't be best friends. But also everyone, is that an option? Even some of the "villains" would have good stories to tell

A random thought: I feel like most people in the fandom now are so new (they joined in with the movie release!) and unaware of the uh atrocities of back in the day. And y'all are lucky, but those of us who know. Know. (yes, I was unbearable but that's ok because I was having fun, and despite what I just said: have fun in your fandoms even if you're "unbearable", just keep it welcome to all and enjoy the enthusiasm you have for it:))

An unpopular opinion: Oh boy. Maybe stop making quick judgments about people based on what they write/who they ship? There is a line, but I've genuinely never seen it crossed by anyone at least openly sooo just let people have fun? And don't say anything about something? Unless it's actually harmful but even then, keep it to a dm or something and have an open discussion. Just let people vibe, please? Especially younger fans. Just, I’ve seen a weird amount of negativity towards them. They’re kids having fun, we all used to be like that so please, be kind and patient. They’ll learn if they make a mistake. Ok? Ok cool:) (maybe not unpopular but still I wanted to say it)

My canon OTP: Am I allowed to say lams?

My non-canon OTP: washette, wow, who would've guessed? xD

Most badass character: Mary my beloved

Most epic villain: Robert Rogers hands down

Pairing I am not a fan of: no one murder me, but in general I'm just not a fan of jamilton. also whatever was the deal with Anna and Abe

Characters I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): um. Where to begin? Honestly I think every woman in Turn at one point or another, except perhaps Peggy in my opinion. Oh but especially Anna. Also Simcoe. With Hamilton, probably again everyone at some point, but the way Angelica was written just feels so overwhelmingly fictional it bugs me. (But at least Hamilton had some genuine relationships between women, not great but still)

Favorite friendship(s): Ben and Caleb, Washington and Lafayette (what?? yes, you fools. lol). It may sound a tad ~cringey~ but I generally like Hamilton's vibe with the boys, maybe it's just the gender envy, but it's kinda cute and fun.

Character I most identify with: well jeez, I won't lie but Washington. In both versions, except god knows I could never be that chill. Also a dash of Laurens.

Character I wish I could be: wow what a loaded question ummm. I don't want to be like him, but I want to be like in his position so Hamilton lol. Playing an active role but I know personally I am not cut out for a battlefield, so a desk suits me well.

2. MCU (fandom-that I am so out of date from, please take all of this with a grain of salt)

Favorite character: so when I was younger it was Tony Stark but now it’s definitely Wanda and T’challa

Least favorite character: ummm. I genuinely couldn’t tell you, I’m very out of date

5 favorite ships (canon or non-canon): wandavision, …ngl I can’t think of anymore, I honestly never shipped many and wandavision was like the only couple I remember really liking. Oh, I don’t know them but Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie

Character I find most attractive: embarrassing confession time, Loki was my first bad celebrity crush. Wanda now and Shuri is cute. Also Sylvie

Character I would marry: if I could, Wanda

Character I would be best friends with: Vision and Peter Parker

A random thought: y’all it’s been so long since I’ve touched MCU I should catch up/refresh shouldn’t I?

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. Personally, I really don’t like the movie Civil War, I think it’s what sorta made me disinterested in mcu. It’s been years since I’ve watched it so maybe I would have a completely different opinion if I saw it today, but at the time it just felt so...wrong? And childish? I literally don’t even remember why they were fighting or how that movie even ended (I feel like it just wasn’t satisfying??) but I think also, as a kid or teen watching that, it reminded me sooo much of the dumb drama that, you know, kids get into. I mean, getting your friends on someone’s side like that?? Like, I know they were mad but- but there are other ways of dealing with emotions??? And involving everyone's friends too? So yeah, it just felt off to me at the time, and looking back now, from what I remember, it just frustrated me. Especially as a kid who deals with dumb drama like that all the time, kids would want to see a better example especially from adult superheroes or at least not be reminded of the bs they have to go through sometimes. But, rant over, that’s all just my opinion:)

My canon OTP: wandavision

My non-canon OTP: ummm. I guess just Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie lol

Most badass character: I have to say Natasha but actually there are many

Most epic villain: when I was younger I liked that Ultron was voiced by Robert California from the Office lol

Pairing I am not a fan of: I don’t know if it’s popular but I never liked Tony and Pepper. What happened with her?

Characters I feel the writers screwed up: I guess I’ll say Thor because I just felt such a weird difference in his personality that did not make sense to me

Favorite friendship: Wanda and Pietro!! Honestly I think a lot, there were a lot of good friendships but I can’t think of which ones are my favorite

Character I most identify with: ummmmmm.

Character I wish I could be: My gut says Thor

3. Washette (ship-bless you<3 get ready for rambles oh no)

When I started shipping them: So I first had the thought in 7th grade while my history teacher was talking about them and my little brain went: haha that’s pretty gay. (teacher keeps talking about them) wait a fucking minute, that is pretty gay! But it wasn’t until I got sucked into Hamilton that I really started actively shipping them by reading fics and what not, but something about them became an instant favorite. And later (little personal story time) I pretty much completely stopped reading fic and being active in fandom for years and actually, when I got my first panic attack that - no joke - lasted for 5 hours, for some reason my brain (as it’s decaying lol) said I want to go and reread all my favorite washette fics and also do what I was I always too scared to do. Write!! So that night I binged the fics and found myself falling in love again, feeling all the old passion I had for them again, and the next night (still very shaken) I wrote an outline of a good ol washette confession + kiss that was extremely thoughtful and good, and honestly, I have not actually used that outline yet! Maybe I’m saving it. But yeah, this is a long answer, but I have a weird amount of attachment to them and this ship, I wish I knew why too. <3

My thoughts: so many. Too many. First of all, I love that I have so many versions of them in my mind, right? When I started writing, I had never watched Turn but then I did and then it was like: hell yeah, another washette set. At this point, my brain has created it’s own unique version of them but it’s like, they’re so versatile! That’s one neat thing about this fandom as a whole, we get more than one character and personality and that’s just fun right?! More specifically on washette I mean, they’re just so sweet. Historically, their relationship is unique and cute, and you’d have to be a fool to think that to Washington Lafayette was just another friend. Even strictly platonically, it was something special and it’s so obvious I just love them. Ok. Enough thoughts for now <3

What makes me happy about them: the loooove, the comfort they found in each other, the fact that like every person at the time documenting them knew and understood they were special to each other like, they were just that in love.

What makes me sad about them: oh so much that I try to ignore lol. There is the one year when Lafayette went to France and all his letters to Wash are like: “I have not received one letter from you, but it’s ok, I love you and I know you love me too :)” WHO WAS NOT DELIVERING THESE LETTERS, I HAVE NAMES, NOW I WANT ANSWERS. Anyway, also just most things that happened when Laf went back to France. And then when he visited America in 1824 and visited Washington’s grave. Yeah. ow. (also, you know what, I have done too much research on this event. lmk if you would like a post)

Things done in fanfic that annoy me: Generally, I’m not annoyed by much in fanfic at least with them and what I’ve seen. I’m still nostalgic for the old school nonbinary Laf fics, so it ain’t those. Literally maybe it’s because I’m starved for content but I can’t really think of anything, I love it all.

Things I look for in fanfic: back to the whole starved for content thing, I am a library of washette fics but I think if I was to pick a certain thing that I would love it’s just um fluff? And honesty, if that makes sense. Love confessions are very good as well. Canon era, please :) pining but not too much that it hurts me lol

My wishlist: literally all my wips. If I could whisk them into existence I could die happy and knowing I have put a variety of washette content in the world. Something else though, more fics :’) I love writing but sometimes I want to curl up with a cozy, new washette fic like a cup of hot chocolate and be surprised and learn something new and just..yeah:)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: what. Ok but actually, Martha and Adrienne because they are both honestly perfect for them and I love them too (I’m going to be biased, especially Adrienne)

My happily ever after for them: Can Lafayette just move the family to America? But also, it’s sad, but like I know Laf would be sad in America while France suffers. So...maybe a world where things in France go better and Lafayette gets to visit Washington more often and bring the family!! (Washington visit France too??)

4. Anna Strong (character)

How I feel about this character: I like her! She’s fun and…strong (oops lol) and she’s made some mistakes sure, but I feel like she did her best to learn from them and move on

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Honestly, I know they didn’t have a lot of interaction in the show but Anna/Mary has potential. And Anna/Edmund

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: her and Ben and Caleb

My unpopular opinion about this character: I really can’t think of anything unpopular

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: in general, her having more screen time with less men you know? I mean like one-on-one kind of scenes. Also I would’ve liked to see at least her and Selah talk. Like, really talk. They never really did that, right? I just have so many questions about them

Favorite friendship for this character: Anna and Ben

My crossover ship: I have no idea

And well, I know it’s been a few days but for a fandom list, I’m just a weeb lol but here

Octopath Traveler (my beloved)

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Star Wars

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Persona 4

Zelda (to a point)

Pokémon

What We Do in the Shadows

Sailor Moon

Literally anything historical

Ok!! I tried to add a lot because I’m not sure what you might know or not haha. But thank you again!! I had fun <3

#ask game

7 notes · View notes

dindjarindiaries · 4 years ago

Text

Bittersweet - Chapter 1: The Headache and a Half

summary: You come into work already preoccupied just to find out there’s a whole other group of people you’ll be working with, and you have to watch Marcus’ eyes wander.

warnings: pining right out of the gate, light angst, kinda-cringey beginning but stick with it, also i really don’t know anything about the fbi and i also only watched the episodes marcus was in so i’m sorry if things look really wrong lol

rating: T

word count: 4.612k

masterlist ⟹ next part

chapter 1: the headache and a half

You stand in the church with both your hands in those of a stranger, a man whose face is hidden from you—but you don’t seem to care about it. You’re dressed in all white with a veil to match, feeling elated yet torn apart at the same time. You don’t know why. You’re getting married and you’re supposed to be happy about that.

Except part of your heart feels empty, as if this isn’t right—as if this shouldn’t be the man standing there. But you don’t even know who this man is. How could you possibly know that?

Your thoughts are broken apart by the sound of the church door flying open and gasps of surprise from the guests. You look and feel your eyes double in size at the sight.

It’s Pike, standing there in all his soft glory, already dressed up for the occasion.

“Wait!” he exclaims. You’re eagerly studying the knit in his brow that shows his desperation and the glow of his dark eyes that beg for you to listen. “Don’t do it.” Marcus stops only when he’s at the base of the altar you’re standing on, his gaze locked in yours as he continues. “I should’ve told you before—so long ago—but I’ll tell you now.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you.”

There’s another gasp throughout the church, but you feel that hesitance you’d had before finally dissipate at his words—and you realize that’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You separate from the man you’re standing across from to smile down at Marcus. “I love you too, Marcus,” you say with a voice full of disbelief and unshed tears. “I always have—and I always will.”

Marcus finally smiles in the same way you do, his eyes smaller yet brighter as they wrinkle up in the way you adore so much. He reaches out a hand to help you get down the steps to meet him, his hands remaining tight in yours as he looks down at you. No words are said—you’ve already spoken enough—and your gazes soon fall to each other’s lips. You lean closer and closer together, already starting to let your eyelids flutter closed, heart racing at the prospect of what’s to come, feeling his breath on your face, when finally—

—your alarm goes off, alerting you to the fact that it’s 7:15 in the morning and you have to get ready for work.

You release a groan as you slap your hand down against the clock, hands reaching for your spare pillow and stuffing it over your face. You scream into it, glad that it drowns out the sounds so your neighbors don’t think you’re being murdered. You might as well be. Having a dream like that makes you wish you were dead because what the hell even was that?

You toss the pillow aside again and sigh heavily, staring at the ceiling as you shake your head. “I’ve been watching too many romcoms,” you tell yourself, running your hands over your face. You haven’t even made it to work yet and you’re already starting to get a headache.

As you roll out of bed and get ready for the day, you think about how this sadly isn’t the first time you’ve had a dream like that. Now, the whole marriage-in-the-church-with-him-bursting-through-the-door is most definitely a newer and deeper context, but having dreams about your work partner of countless years is something you’ve become more and more used to. Thanks to your unrequited feelings for him, you’re bound to keep having dreams like this as long as your heart decides that it wants to torture you day-in and day-out.

But it also doesn’t help that you have to go into the office every day and work side-by-side with the man himself.

Marcus Pike isn’t the type to break your heart—consciously. You’ve known him for a long time, now, having both come into your jobs at the FBI around the same time. Obviously sharing many of the same interests thanks to the art-centered focus of your work, you became close quickly, which was helped by the fact that you were partners. Ever since, you’ve been close friends, and while you wouldn’t exactly coin the term “best friend” for Marcus, you know it’s pretty close—if it wasn’t for your best friend who already takes the spot.

Speaking of the devil, you hear a dinging come from the phone still on your bedside table, and you finish buttoning up your shirt to walk over and see what the notification is. You bite back a smile as you read the message.

andy💞: good morning, miss thing! here’s your daily reminder to make sure you stop dreaming about mr. perfect and get ready for work!😌

You shake your head and feel your cheeks heat up despite the fact Andy’s not even here to see it. She’s been your best friend ever since college, where you met each other at your first party and spilled out all your life problems to each other in the girl’s bathroom after drinking way too much vodka. After freshman year, she became your roommate and your faithful confidante through life. You’ve stayed close, even though she had to move to the city in New York for work and you went to Texas, texting you everyday and calling you at least a few times a week. Recently, she’s been preoccupied with helping you through your pining problems.

me: very funny, andrea. but you don’t even wanna hear about last night’s dream.

You send the message and put the phone down, refusing to entertain whatever curiosity you’ve pulled out of Andy now. Instead, you dwell more on the problems at hand. You wish you could get the image of Marcus bursting into your wedding out of your head, feeling embarrassed at the fact that your subconscious even created it in the first place.

Somewhere along the way of working with Marcus, you started developing feelings that went past the co-worker line. And then the friendship line. And now you don’t even know where the hell it lands. All you know is that you think about him way more than you should. Especially his smile… it’s so bright and downright adorable with that little dimple of his… and when his eyes crinkle up, oh it’s so—.

You stop and look in the mirror where you’re doing your makeup, slapping your own cheek to push those thoughts from your mind.

It happened at some point when you started to talk as more than coworkers, to learn things about Marcus that you know he hasn’t talked to many others about, including his divorce. You know what he’s been through and, in exchange for the deep truths he’s told you, he also knows what you’ve been through. This isn’t including the shared trauma you have at the things you’ve seen and done on the job together. That’s why he’s one of the only people you tolerate in that office.

Well… “tolerate” doesn’t really do your true feelings for Marcus any justice.

You huff as you finish your routine, finally going back out to your room and picking your phone up from the bedside table. There’s another text there and you’re already wishing you could send a punch through the phone.

andy💞: first of all, ‘andrea?’ rude??😤 second of all um ma’am now i NEED to know what happened.

Your gaze drifts to the ceiling for a moment as you release a heavy breath.

me: let’s just say it involved a church and a wedding dress.

You feel embarrassed even typing out the words, but you dread the moment when you see those three dots pop up in a bubble at the corner of the screen.

andy💞: oh shit, don’t tell me you married him LMAO😭

me: it’s worse than that.🤦‍♀️

andy💞: how can it possibly be worse than that???

me: listen, i’ll call you after work and tell you, kay? i gotta go.

You sigh when you lock your phone decisively, gathering the rest of your belongings and heading out of your humble apartment. After you make your way down to the lobby and get into your car, you fall back into the seat with a heavy sigh, groaning when your temples already start to tighten up into a tension headache.

Just what you need to go into work with.

The drive finds you numbly swimming through your thoughts as you go through the typical routine of your everyday suffering. Well, if you’re being honest, that’s a dramatic way to describe it. But still. You can never decide if you’re relieved to get to work and see your partner-of-long or if you’re dreading it. Having to face your partner after dreaming about him is… well, not ideal. You’re grateful that he doesn’t pick up on your awkwardness, though. Or, if he does, he never tells you. You’re equally as grateful for that.

You see a text on your phone from Andy but choose to ignore it, not needing the additional stress nor the reminder of your dream as you park in your usual spot in the garage. You hike your small bag on your shoulder and head inside the building, only taking a moment to refocus yourself once you’re inside the elevator. Your eyes fall closed as you release a heavy sigh, rubbing two of your fingers against each temple as you wiggle your jaw. You hope that the caffeine you know is already awaiting you on your desk will be a relief to the pain you’re experiencing. The doors open and you wince a bit as the fluorescents invade your vision, not helping your headache as you trudge over to your collection of desks.

To your surprise, there’s only the coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming—and no Marcus there to greet you as usual.

You don’t know if you’re grateful for that or saddened by it. All you do is give a light huff as you set down your bag, picking up the mug and giving it a daring taste. It’s perfect just like it always is. Marcus always pays attention to detail. The thought makes you smile—and for a brief moment, it makes you hopeful. Just like it always does. Every single morning.

The feeling quickly fades. You hold tight to your mug as you walk out of the cluster of desks, peering through the glass walls to see where Marcus—and the rest of your team, for that matter—could be. It’s highly unusual for them not to be crowding in a group around somebody’s desk, either studying a new case or trying to look up information on thieves you’ve been hunting for months. You find yourself hit with a large wave of shock when you walk out to see Marcus in one of the floor’s main conference rooms, sitting beside a blonde woman who’s obviously distressed. There are others in there with him who look familiar, but you know they’re not from your team.

They’re from the homicide team. You suddenly feel your headache intensify at the prospect of what this could mean. Through the glass, your gaze meets Marcus’, and his brow lifts as he gives you a look that practically says I’ll explain everything in a second. You give him a nod and draw a long sip from your coffee, holding back a wince when your temples tighten up painfully. The caffeine has to work its magic fast, or else you’ll be clocked out for the day before you’ve even really clocked in.

A few minutes later, you watch as Marcus stands up from his seat, a few others following as he heads out of the conference room. You stand and wait for him to meet you, his dark eyes glittering in a way that already informs you that you’ve got quite the situation on your hands. Once Marcus is in hearing range, you speak out.

“Is that the homicide team?” you question, raising an eyebrow as Marcus walks alongside you back to your cluster of desks.

“Yep,” Marcus answers, popping the “p” as he lets you step inside the glassed-off area first. You lean against your desk as Marcus tosses a pile of files onto his, standing with his hands on his hips in front of you as he continues. “This morning, there was a robbery during the local exhibition setup—including a murder.”

You exhale deeply and force more coffee down your throat, realizing that your physical headache is just the first one you’ll be getting today. “That’s more action than we’re used to.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees, crossing his arms now as he takes a quick look outside of the glass. “Now, the homicide team’s stepping in to help us.” He looks back to you. “Which, you know, means they’ll be leading the mission.”

“Obviously,” you murmur. Not that you’re not grateful for their work, but the agents who work in the homicide department have always been hailed as the heroes of the FBI. Patrick Jane is especially the one mentioned by many, with his ability to read people making him particularly noteworthy. You hold back a scoff at them stepping into the art theft department, likely eager to make your work look like some kind of opportunity for them to show off even more. “Not that I’d really want to deal with a murderer on our own.”

“Exactly.” Marcus finally walks over to join you at your side, leaning against your desk as he looks down at you. “How’s your morning been so far?”

You try to hide a smile as you shrug up at him. It’s a question Marcus asks you everyday without fail. “The usual.”

Marcus lifts an eyebrow. “So, getting pestered with texts from Andy?”

You laugh and widen your eyes for dramatic effect, taking another sip of coffee. “You know how the daily ritual goes.” You pause for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell him that you’ve been distracted and stressed all morning to the point of giving yourself a tension headache bad enough to make you sensitive to the fluorescents hanging above you. The only problem is, you know he’ll ask you why—and you don’t have a good lie thought up just yet.

Marcus beats you to it. “What else?” You look into his dark gaze to see it observing you closely, as if he knows something’s wrong. He always does.

Your shoulders sag a little as you stare back out beyond the glass. “I just didn’t sleep well.” You sigh as you pick through your half-lie. “I was stressed about it all morning and now I’ve given myself a headache from hell.” You look back up at him with a slightly-amused expression. “And hearing about this whole joint-operation with the homicide team is—.”

“—not the best remedy.” Marcus finishes the thought for you, giving you a nod in understanding. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Losing sleep is no joke.” He sits up a little taller and gestures with his thumb over towards his desk. “I think I have some stuff for a headache, if you need it.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Thanks, Pike, but that’s probably not the best idea.” When Marcus furrows his brow, you look down at your nearly-empty mug of coffee with shame. “I may or may not have completely forgotten to eat breakfast, so I’m running on an empty stomach.”

Marcus tuts at you, shaking his head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You gotta’ start taking better care of yourself, partner.” He fully stands up from the desk, walking over to his. “Thankfully, I’ve got just the thing.” Marcus opens a drawer of his desk to reveal not only the aforementioned bottle of pills, but also a granola bar.

You shake your head as he hands both items to you. “You don’t have to, Pike.”

“I know.” Marcus sticks his hands into his pockets as he lets his smile grow. “But if you’re not gonna take care of yourself, then I will.”

You fight hard to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks as you reach for the bottle of water in your bag and use that to swallow down two of the pills, handing the bottle back to Marcus before unwrapping the granola bar. As you eat it, you question Marcus for more information. “So, what’s on the docket for today, then?”

Marcus sighs and lets his gaze drift to the ceiling, as if he’s picturing the agenda in his mind. “Well, I’ve got a briefing to do with Fischer in about…” Marcus trails off as he looks down to the watch on his wrist, “ten minutes. Then, it’s all up to the homicide team. We’ll basically just be here as resources to help guide them.”

You nod and take another bite of the bar in your hand. “I assume I’ll get all the information I need in the briefing.”

Marcus nods to confirm your words. “I’ll try to make it nice and clear—and I’ll deal with their team.”

You shake your head as you stare up at him. “I couldn’t let you do that, Pike.”

Marcus gives his hand a wave. “It’s fine, partner. I’ll learn their ways—and then we can take them for ourselves.”

You snicker and raise an eyebrow. “So that’s why you want to handle it.”

“Nooo.” Marcus tries to refuse your words, but he does a terrible job as a mischievous smile appears on his lips. “Listen, I’ve got it, alright? Unless you wanna help.”

You scoff and finish off the granola bar. “No offense to them, but I��m not feeling particularly eager to work with a whole other department when this one’s got me crazed enough.”

Marcus laughs, patting your shoulder before he picks his files back up from his desk. He moves to head off, but stops in front of you, looking into your gaze seriously. “Hang in there. I’ll try to keep things short and sweet so we can get in and get out.” You give him a nod, and he pats your shoulder again before walking off towards the briefing room. You release a sigh and close your eyes for a moment, trying not to overthink his friendly actions nor remember what you’d dreamt about just hours before. You’re unsuccessful in both and it starts to reverse the effects of the pills you’ve taken.

Minutes later, you’re heading off to the briefing room yourself, taking a seat somewhere far away from the small crowd that’s closest to Marcus and Kim Fischer of the homicide department. You take out your notebook and release a soft breath, the tip of your pen bouncing against the paper as you wait for the clock to strike upon the hour. While you appreciated Marcus’ help in aiding your headache, it still hasn’t faded, and the way you’re clenching your jaw right now is surely a reason as to why. But you can’t help it. You feel on edge more than ever with this situation involving a whole other department—and you feel like something’s off.

During the briefing, you realize what.

Sitting just in front of Marcus is another famed agent from the homicide team, Teresa Lisbon. That’s a name you’ve heard more commonly in break rooms when you’re refilling your coffee and end up hearing the gossip of the building. Her name is almost always associated with Jane’s and you’ve caught on to the fact that—in a way quite similar to you and Marcus, actually—they’ve been partners forever and it’s led many to believe that they’re an item. But it still hasn’t happened. And now, you watch as her and Marcus share more than a few gazes during the meeting.

But you’re probably overthinking this. Right?

Yeah, you think to yourself, because the crazy woman who has romantic dreams of her partner at night gets to judge another woman and get jealous if she shares a few gazes with her partner. Totally entitled to all of that.

You roll your eyes at yourself and lean your elbow against the armrest of your chair, willing all your strength not to close your eyes and hide yourself from the sight.

Marcus sticks to his word and keeps what he has to say short and sweet. You write down whatever’s important but let yourself tune out what you don’t think is as necessary. You’re not usually the type to space out during briefings—you’ve always been known for your precision—but this situation feels far out of your hands as an art theft agent and more in the hands of those who sit around you. Once the briefing ends, you nearly exclaim a hallelujah, standing from your chair and beelining for your desk. A few moments after you plop down into your chair, Marcus appears yet again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as you smile up at him.

“Nicely done, Agent Pike,” you inform him, watching as he gives you a nod in thanks. “So, it’s their move next?”

“Yeah,” Marcus confirms your words. “They’re making a plan, and they’re letting me in on it.”

You furrow your brow. “And not me?”

Marcus hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours as he lets out a soft sigh. “Yes, you, but here’s the thing.” Marcus crosses his arms as you anticipate his explanation. “You don’t seem like yourself today—so I want you to catch up on your sleep.” You’re about to argue when Marcus continues. “It’s okay, it happens, and nobody has to know.” Marcus lowers his voice as he goes on. “You can head home for a while, sleep as much as you need to, and if you feel up for it, you can come back tonight and join me here. Does that sound good? Or am I being a patronizing prick?”

You chuckle a bit at that and shake your head, giving him a small and relieved smile. “That sounds great, Pike. Thank you so much.”

Marcus simply nods again, reaching across your desk to pat your shoulder before he heads away. You release a sigh and stand up from your chair, hanging your bag on your shoulder as you make your escape. Your head is still pounding and your eyelids feel heavier at the idea of getting to sleep as you step onto the elevator. You can’t bring yourself to think of what you’ll miss but you do know that you feel embarrassed at the cause of your physical suffering. If Marcus knew, he probably wouldn’t be this kind to you about it.

Who are you kidding. It’s Marcus. He’d probably be even nicer about it.

As you walk to your car, you finally unlock your phone, seeing a leftover text from Andy.

andy💞: you better. i’m off work today, so i’ll be waiting.🥱

You shake your head as you sit inside, clipping your phone into the hands-free contraption suctioned to your windshield as you take off and call Andy. It only rings once before she picks up.

“Finally!” Andy exclaims overdramatically. “But also, shouldn’t you be working right now?”

“I should,” you agree, keeping your eyes on the road as you navigate your way back to your apartment, “but Pike sent me home to get some sleep.”

“He—what?” Andy’s obviously confused. “Did you tell him about the dream, or—?”

“No, Andy!” Your answer comes quick and loud. “Why the hell would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! So that you’re not lying to him all the time?”

“That’d be awkward as hell. I’m never doing that.” You huff as you turn your wheel. “Anyway, Marcus just reads me well. He could tell I was off. I mean, I do have a headache that’s bordering dangerously on a migraine.”

“A Marcus-induced migraine?”

You bite your lip and tighten your hands around the wheel in annoyance at both yourself and Andy. “Possibly.”

Andy chuckles a bit on the other end of the line. “Ah, his power. If only he knew.”

“He won’t.”

“But can I? You still haven’t explained what happened!”

And so, in the time it takes for you to reach your apartment, you explain to Andy everything about your dream and what you could of what’s happened since then. Andy, of course, goes crazy over your romcom-esque dream, and she squeals at the drama of the situation you’re currently in with a whole other department filling your shoes. You even mention the looks you’d witnessed between Marcus and Teresa earlier.

“They gazed at each other? Multiple times?” Andy gasps dramatically. “How scandalous.”

“Shut up,” you wince, parking your car and trapping your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you get out. “Look, I’m sure it’s nothing and I’m just overthinking it, but… I know she’s got some kind of history with her partner and if something really does go down, I don’t wanna see Marcus get hurt again.”

“Or, you just wanna see him with you.”

You sigh and push your way inside your apartment building. “Fair point. That’s probably why I’m overthinking it.”

“I think you might be, Miss Thing. This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. They probably just looked at each other because briefings sound boring as hell and they didn’t know where else to look.”

“Probably.” You whimper once you get into your apartment and inside your bedroom, flopping down onto the bed as you close your eyes. “I feel so pathetic and creepy talking about Marcus like this, Andy. I shouldn’t be analyzing his every breath.”

“Hey, that’s what happens when you like someone. It’s fine. You’ll live, he’ll live, and life will work its way out. For now, you should probably take Marcus’ advice and sleep.”

You nod to agree, despite the fact Andy can’t see you. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later, Andy. Love ya’.”

“Love you more, girl. Sleep well and try not to dream of Marcus for once.”

You snort and shake your head. “I will.” You hang up and let out a deep breath, your brow furrowing together as you notice a new text notification. You open it up and you hate the way your heart practically leaps at the sight of Marcus’ contact name.

marcus🥞: Make sure you get some quality sleep, partner. Things are getting… interesting here and I miss having you around. I have a lot to fill you in on once you get here.

You smile to yourself as you type your response.

me: you got it, pike. try not to have too much fun without me. just pretend i’m there to roll my eyes.🙄

You start to let yourself settle into bed—regardless of your work clothes—and take one last look at your phone before you comply with Marcus’ request.

marcus🥞: I’ll try my best.🥴 Text me with how you’re feeling when you wake up.

me: roger that👍

You bite back a smile as you put your phone on your bedside table and relax against your pillow, already feeling your headache starting to fade in the face of Marcus’ kindness—and completely unknowing of the one that’s awaiting you the moment you step back into that building.

masterlist ⟹ next part

if you’d like to be added to the bittersweet tag list, let me know!

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin @chibi-liz05

#i didn't edit this i'm sorry lol but uh #yeehaw?#how we feelin?#idk how i feel but i promise it'll get better and less cringey lol #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #dindjarindiaries #bittersweet fic

181 notes · View notes

otanatchan · 3 years ago

Text

ok this definitely is my sideblog for venting about any and all anime but i WENT TO SEE THE FREE! MOVIE LOL AND MY MAIN TAKEAWAY IS THAT I WAS ALWAYS RIGHT ABOUT IKUYA/ASAHI SUPREMACY LOL

Like in the movie they have a big nomikai with haru, makoto, rin, sousuke, hiyori, ikuya, kisumi, asahi, natsuya and nao and they literally make mention of ikuya being the youngest and 1) he pouts and is the cutest ever and i love him and 2) I HAVE A FIC DRAFT FROM YEARS AGO ABOUT THAT EXACT TOPIC, namely, the boys hanging out and drinking together and ikuya being a baby and can’t handle his liquor but also asahi being in love with him because this is very important to me....... ok yeah there was also a really good scene where ikuya and asahi were doing training together and they stayed in the pool and talked about their feelings and asahi goes “i like your swimming when you’re true to yourself” or something and ikuya was like “yeah i don’t hate you/your swimming” and asahi was like “just be honest and say you like me” and ikuya was like “hell no” and my HEART WAS VERY FULL I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

one more thing is that sousuke and makoto had a lot of scenes together and makoto pulled him out of the pool and sousuke said “sankyuu makoto” and i was like THE SOUMAKOS FROM 2014 ARE ALL HAVING THE LAST LAUGH

but also one more thing lol is that Rin and Ikuya have like the most amazing dynamic together that I wasn’t expecting but I really enjoy it, and Rin was soooo cute in this movie like they went over the top with how they drew/animated him lol he is so fucking cute. And also I bought 2 copies of the postcard goods lol and I got Rin and Ikuya and I was sooo happy lol... they’re so freaking cute and also one of Ikuya’s postcards features Asahi & my shipper heart soared lmao

And last thing the English voice acting was so terrible and cringey but one of my favorite moments was when Albert ignored Kinjou and then said something to Haru in English which like... does Haru understand English???? he didn’t say anything so it just felt like “何て？” lol I was cracking up but I mean the line stayed with him the whole movie so I guess he understood it but I like to think he doesn’t understand English lmao.

Anyway I’m definitely gonna see the movie again because in October they’re doing a MakoRin combo set at the theater lol so I might have more thoughts again later but that’s my 感想 from opening night it was really fun and I had a great time 10/10

#free!

3 notes · View notes

weaselbeaselpants · 5 years ago

Text

Hazbin Hotel Review part 2: Mistakes were made please don’t kill me

This pilot is polarizing at the moment. In between the two sides of the anti-fanbase (ppl crying “if you like HH you’re homophobic”, or the BWW with it’s cringey politics), you have lots of fans who are falling over themselves about how good this is. If you love Hazbin unconditionally that’s fine, but here’s the thing:

I like it too.

I’m the kind of person who’s naturally critical, pokes harmless fun at what I like, and is always rewriting and reimagining things within the fandoms I like. I want to be a ‘Hazbin’ fan but I don’t know if I’m allowed to since the fanbase can be so staunchly overprotective and Viv herself has said she doesn’t like criticism, no matter how valid or done in good faith.

Tbh, that’s why the drama revolving around @frootrollup1 upsets me: the fandom is fine with lumping all criticism or redesign stuff in the realm of ignorant hate, when redesign, rewrites, revamps and other fan dribble are kind of a labor of love onto itself in other fandoms. Guess that’s a talk for later though.

With all this in mind, let me go over my thoughts:

There’s no PROPER establishment of Hell as a place, setting, world, or proper establishment of the characters.

The armor-piercing question Hazbin needs to be asked is this:

“is this a generic version of Hell we should all be familiar with and need no introduction to, OR is this a unique take that requires it’s own rules?”

^ It feels like the latter but we don’t get a good rundown of said rules. Besides that, characters are one note and serve either no purpose or become flies on the wall to other characters’ purpose.

Things were said and places were shown but we honestly don’t get a good idea of Hell by the end of the pilot. It’s a ritzy(?) place where souls of the damned literally become demons and then get purged. I THINK. I THINK, that’s what the writer’s were going for here. TBH, it feels like they’re skipping ahead and thinking of the show as a finished, fully realized product with developed characters and plots already, and not an introduction to a series/standalone piece.

If I didn’t have some inkling or the lore prior to watching it, I wouldn’t have known that the demons sans-Charlie were once human. Angel says in passing in the car that he’s already dead, but really references to the fact that they were once human are rare.

Now I’m a simple woman - I ain’t picky with mah demonology - But, call me crazy, when I think Hell I don’t think of the people who end up there turning into demons, I think of people going there to be tortured. That’s the hell I’m used to seeing and is prevelant in like every religion that has a hell. Taking a spin on that and making demons the souls of sinners trapped in hell? A-okay, but I NEED MORE. Instead of talking in a car or spending time on this lolsofuny demon turf war, we really needed more time given to the fact that Vaggie, Angel, and others were once human. No, I don’t want a full flashback, but it would give us a better grasp of the mechanics of sin in this world if these two characters told a little bit more themselves than just having some lines offhandedly explaining how everything works.

EX- How to do revamp of a familiar setting right while still leaving certain details vague? One Word: Hadestown.

Hadestown doesn’t need to give you all the details of it’s setting cause that’s not the point. You don’t need to know if the workers of Hadestown are literally dead, metaphorically dead, or both or where other gods live. Those aren’t the things we need to know for the musical to progress. What we need to know is Hades’ underworld is a mining colony of doom, that Hades buys peoples souls so the workers can never leave, that Persephone and Hades are on the rocks which is messing up the seasons, and that oop! Eurydice had to go back. Between the commonplace to complex knowledge westerners have of Greek mythology and the revamped Prohibition-era setting, all is explained that we the audience need explained.

I have the feeling Hazbin Hotel wanted the same thing: explain what needs to be explained for the currant plot and leave bits and pieces in the dark. It just didn’t really work.

The flow of the narrative was bad.

So apparently on the PizzaPartyPodcast Vivziepop admitted there were things that were moved around or turned out rushed.

Fair enough but even with that excuse can someone please tell me why they thought it was a good idea to start the story after Angel has already been made a patron of the hotel?

Getting to know not only how the world works first and foremost, but who our main character (Charlie) is and what she is doing (the hotel), would be the easiest way to drop us into the action of the story and get the ball rolling. But instead we start off with an intro song that sort of shows us what this world is like but doesn’t explain anything about who or what we’re seeing until the newscasters come in. Angel’s introduced in this time and the build up and execution of this character is poor, rushed, and feels more like writers fudging around with a character they like than giving us, the audience, a proper introduction*.

After that, I’m sorry to say the spots where the story picks up, drifts off, lulls about, or comes around all kind of melt into this big slurry the characters are drowning in, without any real care for telling a story. BUT THIS IS A STORY!!!

This is not a little menagerie of random characters ala the Pastoral Symphony from Fantasia. This is not a collection of little things just for the fun of it to get to to know these people (it does a bad job at getting you to know these guys). This is a three act structure. I can tell where the intro, rising action, climax, and falling action are SUPPOSED to be, but they don’t stand out, don’t do their job, and melt into the fluff in a way that makes the emotional impact we’re supposed to feel null somehow...

The pacing was bad.

While some scenes go by far too quickly others go on for faaaaaaar too long. These are the bits that don’t surprise me when I hear this pilot was changed around, cut down, or fudged with a bit.

Scenes like this include Charlie’s back and forth with Katie Killjoy before and after her song, Charlie and Vaggie’s fight in the car, Alastor explaining himself to Charlie and Vaggie trying to talk him out of it, ALL of the Ser Pentious/Cherry Bomb terf fight bits.

Oddly, it feels like these parts are trying REALLY hard to get a point across but they end up being more of a hindrance to this otherwise snappy dialogue and supposedly simple set up. This pilot is 20+ minutes, but the bits we need to endear ourselves to our main cast are squandered on what the writers thought was “fun to write” at the time.

Too many characters, even in a 20 minute pilot.

Instead of getting a good idea of our leads, everyone is treated with the same level of importance or interest in a world that hasn’t even been fully introduced yet.

The truly important supporting characters to Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor are Husk, Katie, and Nifty. Katie provides conflict to the first half of Charlie’s story, while Husk and Nifty are hires by Alastor for the hotel; they establish his power over other demons and his influence on the hotel and it’s success. Sir Pentious and Cherry Bomb needed to be cameos. Their characters should be glorified plot contrivances/resolutions, No More. I ain’t gonna care about a cast of billions from the start. We gotta start small first. Not only do we have four mains, we also have a bunch of little guys who need to eat up screen time...except they absolutely don’t need to and should be simple background cameos for now.

Sir Pentious and Cherry Bomb get as much character time as the four mains even though Angel is underdeveloped and Alastor is overdeveloped. When it comes to storytelling - unconventional or otherwise - priorities, is what this pilot needs.

Angel basically does nothing after Alastor is introduced.

Of all the characters in Hazbin to get left in the dust (lol) and be underdeveloped, Angel Dust would be my last guess. He’s popular with his creator and with the fandom but because of how the pilot is set up, his character falls to the back-burners and is kind of unnecessary: (Charlie uses him as an experiment to see if she can reform a sinner but he doesn’t hold up, so when Alastor comes into play the focus of Charlie’s plan switches almost entirely to Alastor and Angel is unneeded). If this were two episodes of a series; one about Charlie getting to know and trying to “fix” Angel, and another about Alastor coming in and taking over, that’d be fine. But this is a pilot so the plot and character development is kinda crushed in and neither Angel nor his existence amounts to much of anything.

I honestly forgot Angel was even in the latter half of the pilot. The poor demon-spider whore dies on the way to his home planet.

Not to fan-blurb here but I think it’d be more interesting if the conflict in the latter half wasn’t Vaggie trying to warn Charlie away from Alastor but Angel feeling shown up by Alastor and him being the one protesting to Alastor’s take-over of the hotel. It would have given Angel more to do and would cement him as one of our four leads.

Alastor gets a backstory because he is A) not the character I thought they were going for, or B), they’re jumping the gun on him. Alastor is a maddening character in my book because if he’s the character I thought he was supposed to be - our main villain - then they royally messed up a good villain by explaining his story. If he ISN’T the main villain, than color me confused on what he’s supposed to be.

It goes without saying that a good villain should remain somewhat mysterious throughout the rising action, which is what the pilot is building up to (I think?). Alastor’s personality makes him an absolutely wonderful villain and probably the most outwardly “demon”-like of anyone in Hell. Him being a rogue demon that scares the inhabitants of Hell should be alluded to, not stated.

Vaggie and Angel get passing “we dead” bg but our villain gets a backstory dumped on him? For the standalone pilot this episode is, his backstory doesn’t do anything for the plot. For the rest of the series, this feels like a big waste to reveal this guy’s history over anyone else. The rest of the HH cast are sorta small stereotypes and cliches that the writers want to endear to us because of what they do and what they go through, though since there’s too many of them they end up just being there. Alastor, on the other hand, is where they hit gold and really have a character who oozes personality and the feel of their show...but they kind of taint him by giving him an unneeded (at this point) history.

Big problem with him not only being explained but him outright stating his intentions with the hotel.

Maybe I’m wrong and Alastor is not the bigbadvillain in a cast of villains...in which case I don’t know what the pilot wants us to think of him or where the show’s going with him. Is he a demonic version of Harold Hill who learns to care about ppl and gets redeemed? Maybe that will change with future episodes....

Hazbin is confusing as a person not privy to the franchise/development prior ,and feels disappointing from the pov of someone getting hyped for these characters. As a follower of the project it feels like a let down to the respective characters and plots we’ve been anticipating. While, as newcomer, it’s hard to care about anyone. My sister, who had far less info on the pilot than me, was watching it the whole time going “who are you?” and by the end said “why should I care?” Really good summary from this IMDB review here:

Little harsh but my thoughts exactly.

TL;DR: The writers need to really rethink how to introduce their world to newcomers AND fans alike. -

There’s so much passion in Hazbin Hotel but I feel it’s misaimed and a prime example of why “write/draw what you like and what sounds ‘fun’!!!!” isn’t a good idea for storytelling.

There’s technically a story in Hazbin Hotel, but because of the bad pacing and lackluster approach to world and character development, for the kind of project that it is, it’s not very good.

Again, for the people in the back: if you think I’m a bully because I happen to be harsh with my criticism, sorry but harsh critique isn’t the same thing as bad faith criticism (CinemaSins, NC, Bad Webcomics Wiki) and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t lump me in with those turds because I don’t love every second of this. I may not be the best writer, but storytelling is my passion and I think this dropped the ball. IT DOESN’T MEAN I HATE IT. - Alternatively, if you love Hazbin unconditionally or disagree with me on these things: great! Like what you like as long as everything’s safe, which it is. Stuff is problematic but hey so is everything look at the stuff I like. Also, if you’re one of those people who unironically says “if you like HH than I’m blocking you teehee unfollow me”, you fittingly have a very special seat in hell set up for you. Don’t threaten my friends cause you don’t like something they like. =)

#hazbin hotel critique #vivziepop #hazbin hotel

44 notes · View notes

theliterarywolf · 5 years ago

Text

So... Let's talk about Hetalia. Controversies, Specifically.

Tagging @apply-force-too-begin since they’re the one who was interested.

Hetalia was one of my first big fandoms outside of 'The Big Three' anime (Naruto, Bleach, One Piece) and outside of video games (mostly whatever wee babby weeaboo me could get on the Gamecube).

And, you know what? It's a dumb, silly anime about stereotypes, poking fun at the absurdities of History, and one's relationships with clashing cultures. It's dumb... But, remember, we all need our daily thirty minutes of dumb. And some of the characters are cute.

And, you know what? Most of the most engaging aspects of the fandom were those who used the initial shallow splash of history that the anime gave them to actually research and make engaging, well-written, culturally-sensitive content.

Of course, I'm not going to ignore how... Over-the-top some members of the fandom have been. We've seen how, whenever recent political conflict or natural disaster have occurred, we have to remind younger members of the Hetalia fandom to not cutsiefy it with the Hetalia characters. Examples that come to mind are: when the conflict between Russia and Ukraine was surging up, kids kept trying to draw art of 'Russia just wants his big sister back~!', and the last major earthquake that hit Japan that had people making fanart of the Japan character which, while some was tasteful and was meant to bring awareness and donations for Disaster Relief, not... all of it was...

Hell, that’s not even bringing into account the last time I went to Anime Expo (way back during Hetalia’s hayday), I was walking around and saw a bunch of Russia and Baltic State cosplayers being interviewed by the news and the one dressed up in a USSR uniform was holding up a Communist flag and shouting ‘Whoo! SOVIET TAKEOVER!!’

However, one thing that I have noticed, while researching for this write-up, was this:

Most of the controversies and pieces of fandom-wank that have surrounded Hetalia and its fandom... Aside from one instance... Are the results of the Western-fandom and Western-localization of the anime via Funimation.

Aside from one... Most of the issues surrounding Hetalia are due to the West and not even the source media in of itself.

So, with that in mind, let's talk about the main controversies of both Hetalia and its fanbase.

Controversy 1 – The South Korea Controversy/Protests

As I recently answered a question about this, so I'll just pull that answer for this segment:

'To summarize it: there’s a Hetalia character meant to represent South Korea. As every Hetalia character has a gag related to them (America gorges himself on fast food and constantly proclaims himself to be the Hero, Italy is cowardly, Germany is constantly angry, China constantly builds Chinatowns wherever he goes and sells bootleg merchandise, etc), so did S. Korea.

His gag was calling all the other Asian countries ‘big brother’ as well as groping the chests of male characters (China and Japan mostly), proclaiming ‘these mountains belong to South Korea, da ze!’

Of course, people would draw pictures of S. Korea doing his thing but one day during a meeting between a bunch of South Korean politicians and representatives, someone brought out a piece of fanart that depicted S. Korea groping Japan’s chest with the latter looking embarrassed and what not.

They interpreted the character as being an offensive, lecherous stereotype that was somehow belittling S. Korea’s worth as a country.

There were a bunch of small protests until, finally, Himaruya Hidekazu (the creator of Hetalia) just decided to say “you know what? Fine! I’m not getting rid of the character but he’ll never appear in the anime adaptation, okay?!’

So… Yeah! Fun times…'

Magnitude of Controversy – MAJOR

Like... In what universe is 'this meme hurt my feewings, we need to take VALUABLE TIME DURING GOVERNMENT FORUMS to talk about it RATHER THAN OTHER PRESSING ISSUES' a good response? And the fact that people took to the streets to protest? Come on, guys! There's so much more to worry about in this world...

Controversy 2 – Emperor Heliogabalus and Himaruya's 'Transgender Erasure'

There was a section of time where Himaruya Hidekazu, rather than focusing on the nation characters of the series, made chapters and updates about certain historical figures. They were all done for laughs while interspersing various bits of trivia and facts about them.

One of these updates centered around the Roman emperor Heliogabalus (or 'Elagabalus'). And this is where certain portions of this hellsite got soooooo upset...

You see, Himaruya titled the update centered on Heliogabalus as 'The Emperor Who Tried to Live as a Woman... Even Though He Was Really a Guy'.

Almost immediately people were typing up callout posts about how 'transphobic' Himaruya was for the title and 'how dare he misgender my precious trans baby~!' or 'this just goes to show how ignorant Japanese people are to Western history' and so many more, all because Himaruya didn't use out-and-out female pronouns for Heliogabalus.

Now. Mm, two things!

One! This was during the time when Himaruya had an open blog where, not only did he post pictures and updates about where in the world he was traveling and what he was researching, but it also had an inbox that was open for people to send insight to him.

So, if people were really incensed by this, you would think that they would use such a means to let a creator know 'hey, this is kind of problematic; can you edit it to show this information', right?

Right?

NO ONE tried to inform Himaruya of their upset; they literally didn't want an answer, they just wanted to be upset!

But, here's the kicker: the guy that all of these people were stanning for? Emperor Heliogabalus?

WASN'T FUCKING TRANS!!

The real Heliogabalus was a sadistic little shit who was connivingly put on the throne by his mother via a bunch of espionage and assassinations... Who, as thanks, had his own mother murdered once he was emperor. Other wonderful exploits of this 'icon' that tumblr kids decided to stan was:

Getting politicians and countrymen drunk and then, while they were passed out, brought in lions to kill and eat them

Deciding 'fuck Jupiter, Helios is my husbando – We're all going to worship him now!'

Completely wrecking Rome's monetary system

Promising favors to his lovers (whom he called his 'husbands' despite not making anything official) that strictly contradicted favors to his other lovers

And just generally being a hot mess

So... why were tumblr children so insistent on him being a transgender woman?

You ready for this?

Okay.

Because he occaisionally dressed in women's clothing and called his male lovers his 'husbands'.

Yeah.

One of the earliest case of tumblr children trying to ruin someone's life because they didn't follow their headcanons.

Magnitude of Controversy – Honestly, this was just fandom-wank. But it was one of the earlier instances of fandom brats using serious terms (transphobia) to justify being upset at a creator not following their headcanons.

Controversy 3 – The Passover Photoshoot

…

I'm sorry, just...

Everytime I remember or have to go over this one, I have to stop and reflect; maybe grab a drink.

…

Okay.

So, pretty early into the Western reaches of the Hetalia fandom, a group of friends and Hetalia fans decided to meet up together at a mall for a cosplay photoshoot.

Okay. Cool. Fine.

They were all dressed up as their favorite characters from the series! Germany, Austria, Hungary, P-Prussia, Holy... Roman Empire...

Ahem. Okay. Cool. Fine.

So, they get to the mall and start taking pictures. But then someone in the group gets the amazing idea for everyone to do certain poses.

I... You know, why did I start this, I could have just not done thi--

Nazi salutes. You had a bunch of dumb kids dressed up as Germanic nations. Performing Nazi salutes and shouting 'Heil Hitler'.

Now, as bad as this was... you could have just drawn it out as shitty edgelord humor; we still have plenty of that going on today.

H-however. There were two factors that made this photoshoot 50 Shades of Tasteless.

Number one. This photoshoot took place during Passover.

And number two. The mall that this photoshoot took place at...

WAS JUST A HOP, SKIP, AND A JUMP FROM THE UNITED STATES HOLOCAUST MUSEUM!!!

This is the one, THE ONE, instance where, anytime someone talks about 'lol, young Hetalia fans are so cringey', this is what pops into my head.

Those of us older members of the fandom can never fucking forget this. Yeah, the perpetrators were called out; yeah, they learned their lessons, yeah it opened up a conversation about appropriate behavior in fandom. But this one event will always remain as the big 'Ooh, baby, nooooo! What are you doing?!' moment in the fandom.

Even moreso than what the current batch of hatedum is about.

Magnitude of Controversy – Huge. The South Korea controversy was discussed on a governmental scale, but the Passover Photoshoot is what remains as the biggest mark on the fandom.

Controversy 4 - FUCKING FUNIMATION!!

Okay, I...

This one is so infuriating because it’s the result of Funimation just not giving a DAMN.

So, Hetalia got popular enough to be localized! Yay... And it was going to be handled by Funimation. Yay... They do quality work... Sometimes.

*kicks the Black Butler dub into the sun*

So, they dubbed Hetalia. And, you know what? So many questionable decisions went into this fucking dub.

You have Vic Mignogna! You! *clap* Have! *clap* Vic! *clap* Mignogna! You could have easily put him as one of the Axis characters or the Allied characters and you...

Don’t use him...

Until three seasons down the line...

And then you have him as Greece.

A character who barely says anything.

... And this was WAY before the clusterfuck of KickVic, so they really had no excuse.

Oh, also! For China, who is a main character, maybe we should have an actual voice-actor?

Pssh! Fuck that shit, let’s just have some random chick from accounting voice him.

... They literally had some random-chick from accounting do an overly stereotypical Chinese accent and said ‘yeah, that’s fine; print!’

And she gave us such... wonderful line-reads as: during the Hetalia movie Paint It, White! --

“SUCK BALLS! I knew za fortune cookie today was bad ruck~!”

But as bad as the dub got sometimes (Oh God, I’m having war flashbacks of Russia...), the exchange from the dub that people constantly point to as ‘see! This show was antisemitic all along!’ were these:

Exchange 1 -

S. Italy/Romano - ‘Hey asshole, I have a surprise for you~!’

Germany - ‘What is it? Another Jew?’

And, you know what? As asinine and idiotic as that brief exchange was...

IT WASN’T IN THE ORIGINAL MATERIAL!

Funimation, in their infinite wisdom, wrote that in and thought ‘yeah, that’s fine; print!’

So, there goes another issue of ‘problem that only existed because of the idiocy of a Western presence’.

Magnitude of Controversy - Well, people are still talking about it, despite it literally being because of Funimation’s laziness, so...

'Controversy' 5 – The Civil War fanart

So, this segment will be short because it doesn't even need to exist. But, you may have noticed an upsurge in people hating on the series again; even going so far as to raid Discord servers for fans of the series with gore.

Hell, I even scrolled past one person doing a 'call to arms' for people to spam any server that has to do with Hetalia as a big 'gotcha'.

And you wanna know where this fandom-wank started?

Someone on tumblr re-posted an old piece of... questionable chibi fanart of Confederate!America and Union!America. Union!America is hiding a slave woman behind him while shouting at Confederate!America to 'Pick your own damn cotton!'

(deep breath... okay)

And, while the art in of itself is... not great, the fact that it is an old piece of fanart and that someone posted it onto tumblr for the 'lol, look at this cringe' lolz, is what rallied some people to start shitting on fans of the show and raiding servers.

There also may have been some drama over on picrew by some teenage LGBT user lashing out at the whole 'stop spamming Picrew with gay shit' sentiment and then some edgelord over on this hellsite screencapping their game and talking about 'lol, of course it would be a cringey Hetalian to post some dumb shit like this; get off the site, queer' but, honestly, this last one, while being the reason why people are acting dumber than usual, is the most inconsequential.

Magnitude of the Controversy – It would be minimal at best, especially compared to the other ones in this write-up, but like I said, it does have some trickling into the current hatedumb.

So, yeah, here was my little write-up/mini-dive into the madness. You guys can let me know if you want more insight or if you have any questions, and I love you and buh-bye!

#fandom-wank #fandom history

125 notes · View notes